cT^ie^nlecl lo
Brandeis Uni
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Mr> and I^Irs^ Henry Hofheimer
of New York City
Thirty Years of
Musical Life in London
From a daguerreotype owned by Mine. Patti
ADELINA PATTI AT THE AGE OF NINE
Thirty Years of
Musical Life in London
1870-1900
By
Hermann Klein
With more than one hundred illustrations
from photographs
^&4^9^ Vrf******-"
New York
The Century Co.
1903
V
^
I
Copyright, 1903, by
The Century Co.
P-ubllshed October, igos
The DeVinne Press
TO
SIGNOR MANUEL GARCIA
THE MOST ILLUSTRIOUS SINGING TEACHER
OF THE NINETEENTPI CENTURY
THIS BOOK IS RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED
BY HIS GRATEFUL PUPIL
HERMANN KLEIN
77445
CONTENTS
PAGE
Chapter I. Early Norwich days— A famous English fes-
tival—My school-master describes Paganini— Jenny Lind
— Spohr— Julius Benedict— Benedict and Beethoven—
Theresa Tietjens— A great artist and a brave woman . 3
Chapter II. Youthful work and experiences in London—
My brother Max — French refugees of 1871— Alboni —
Joseph Joachim — James Davison and the "Pops" —
Manuel Garcia, teacher and friend— The great master's
method— His sister Malibran 22
Chapter III. Start of journalistic career— A musical
critic at twenty — "Lohengrin" in London— Carl Rosa —
His memorable season at the Princess's— Revival of Eng-
lish Opera— Early days of " interviewing " — Sir Michael
Costa — August Manns and cheap orchestral music — Jean
de Reszke's barytone debut 42
Chapter IV. Verdi at the Albert Hall— The Maestro and
his old classmate— The Manzoni "Requiem" — Wagner
revisits London— The Festival of 1877: its true history
—Wagner and Wilhelmj — The Meister and English preju-
dice — His collapse at rehearsal — Hans Richter— Wagner
" in the chair " 59
Chapter V. Cambridge degrees for Brahms and Joachim
— Performance of the "Exercises "—"Carmen " produced
at Her Majesty's— Debut of Minnie Hauk — A versatile and
accomplished prima donna — Carmen visits Seville — Anton
Rubinstein — Pablo Sarasate — Etelka Gerster — Gayarre —
Lassalle— Edouard de Reszke— A rare galaxy of talent—
The Richter Concerts 79
Vll
Contents
PAGE
Chapter VI. Musical critic of the "Sunday Times"—
The Duke of Cambridge and his journalistic sons — Queen
Victoria's music-loving aunt — F. Paolo Tosti— The Queen's
"Master of the Musick"— Her Majesty's musical library
— A State Concert at Buckingham Palace— German opera
in London— Gounod conducts his "Redemption" . . . 107
Chapter VII. Augustus Harris: actor, metteur en scene^
dramatic author, theatrical manager, operatic impresario
— A great stage-manager and his military aide— Harris
and Carl Rosa- English opera flourishes at Drury Lane
—Arthur Goring Thomas— Alexander C. Mackenzie —
"Esmeralda," "Colomba," and "Nadeshda" 135
Chapter VIII. Decay of old Italian opera— Rise of the
young Italian school— Masterly mismanagement and finan-
cial collapse at Covent Garden— Pauline Lucca— A nota-
ble dinner-party— Marcella Sembrich's surprise— Antonin
Dvorak relates the story of his romantic career— Camille
Saint- Saens— The French master and English oratorio . 152
Chapter IX. Franz Liszt— His last visit to London— A
marvelous survival of a glorious past— Rubinstein's fare-
well to England: his "historical recitals "—An operatic
debacle— Lago to the rescue— Growth of the Wagner
Cult — Hans Richter and Arthur Sullivan — England's great-
est musician: his ideas, habits, and attributes — " The
Golden Legend" at Leeds Festival— Georg Henschel . 177
Chapter X. Augustus Harris and Italian opera— An am-
bitious scheme — To France and Spain in search of artists
—Engaging the de Reszkes— The great tenor's early
career— Madrid and Mancinelli— An amateur bull-fight—
Seville— Opening of the Drury Lane season— Jean de
Reszke's triumph — A barytone's temper 207
Chapter XI. The Operatic Renaissance — Royalty and soci-
ety interested— A brilliant Covent Garden season— D^but
• • •
Vlll
Contents
PAGK
of Melba— The famous " French Trio " : their Hfe in Lon-
don— A vocal duel— Bayreuth in the first " Meistersinger "
year— A visit to Ems and its consequences 230
Chapter XII. Patti and Jean de Reszke in " Romeo et
Juliette"— Historical night at the Paris Opera— Carl
Rosa's death — The controlling influence at Covent Garden
— Lightning opera production — "Romeo" in French;
"Die Meistersinger" in Italian — First gala night— Queen
Victoria and Jean de Reszke 256
Chapter XIII. Opera in America and England— Prog-
ress at Covent Garden— Jean de Reszke's Don Jose —
Harris and the Wagner performing rights— Debut of
Paderewski— The Critics and the Virtuoso— A new musi-
cal "Lion" — Great artist and true friend — An evening
with Paderewski , 284
Chapter XIV. Adelina Patti at home— Life at Craig-y-
nos Castle — Opening of the Patti Theatre: inaugural
operatic performance— Preparing " wordless " plays— The
diva as La Tosca— Her love of Wagner— Bayreuth by
proxy and in reality— "The Queen of Song": an ap-
preciation—How she reappeared at Covent Garden— A
strange presentiment 307
Chapter XV. A meteoric opera scheme — Sullivan's " Ivan-
hoe"— How composed: how "run to death" — Debut of
Eugene Oudin— David Bispham appears in "LaBasoche "
— Oudin and Tschaikowsky : a singular coincidence—
The Russian master's journey to Cambridge— First and
last meetings — "Cavalleria Rusticana " at London and
Windsor— Jean de Reszke's American debut: his im-
pressions 332
Chapter XVI. German opera at Covent Garden— Mahler
as conductor— Debuts of Alvary and Schumann- Heink—
A growing repertory— Victor Maurel and Manuel Garcia:
ix
Contents
PAGE
the renowned teacher vindicated— Debut of Clara Butt
— Leoncavallo and Mascagni in London— How "Caval-
leria" was first rehearsed at Rome— "I Rantzau"— Mas-
cagni at Windsor Castle — More State Performances . . 363
Chapter XVII. A double artistic jubilee— August Manns
honored— Garcia's " Hints on Singing "—Opera in 1894—
New orchestral institutions — Opening of Queen's HaU —
A procession of famous conductors — Richard Strauss —
With Seidl at Bayreuth — A Wagner anecdote— Covent
Garden in 1895— New pianists 393
Chapter XVIII. A visit to America— Jean de Reszke as
a German singer— Nordica's triumph— A private recital
of "Tristan "-The London season of 1896-Death of Sir
Augustus Harris— Two funerals at St. Paul's— Edward
Elgar— "In a Persian Garden"— Charles Salaman— Puc-
cini's "La Boheme"— Operas and debuts in 1897— Opera
at Windsor : the Queen's last " commands " 419
Chapter XIX. Operatic retrogression— The seasons of
1898, 1899, 1900 -Purchase of the Covent Garden lease
—The "Perosi craze"— Final remarks on the Han-is
regime— Death of Sims Reeves— Edward Lloyd's retire-
ment—English singers and Enghsh festivals: a con-
cluding retrospect 448
X
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
PAGE
Adelina Patti at the Age of Nine . . . Frontispiece
St. Andrew's Hall, Norwich. Exterior and Interior . . 5
Jenny Lind, about 18G6 ...... 11
Sir Julius Benedict . . . . . . . .11
Tietjens as Liicrezia Borgia ...... 18
Hermann Klein ......... 23
Alboni 29
Christine Nilsson . . . . . . . .40
Scalchi . 40
Carl Rosa 46
Parepa-Rosa 46
August Manns ......... 51
Luigi Arditi 51
Wagner . 62
Verdi 62
Brahms .......... 69
Wilhehnj 69
Materna .......... 76
Sir Michael Costa 81
Hans Richter ......... 81
Minnie Hauk 88
Clara Louise Kellogg , 88
xi
List of Illustrations
PAGE
Anton Rubinstein 91
Sarasate 91
Del Puente as JEscamillo ....... 98
Gayarre as Vasco di Gama ....... 98
Etelka Gerster 103
Emma Nevada ......... 103
Albani as Desdemona . . . . . . . 109
Patey 109
Facsimile of a State Concert Programme . . . 116
Reicher-Kindermann as Briinnhilde ..... 122
Anton Seidl-1882 122
Klafsky as Isolde 127
Rosa Sucher 127
Santley 133
Edward Lloyd 133
Joseph Maas as Fmist 144
Alwina Valleria as Aida ...... 144
A. Goring Thomas 149
Sir Alex. C. Mackenzie 149
Boito . . 155
Pauline Lucca ........ 155
Marcella Sembrich . . . . . . . .161
Saint-Saens ......... 171
Dvorak 171
Franz Liszt . . . . . . . . . 182
Campanini ......... 187
James H. Mapleson . . . . . . . 187
Sir Wilham Cusins 193
Xll
List of Illustrations
PAGE
Sir Arthur Sullivan ....... 193
Lillian Hensehel 200
Georg Hensehel . 200
Sir Augustus Harris 206
Zelie de Lussan 215
Marie Engle 215
Maurel as Don Giovanni ....... 225
Melba as Marguerite . . . . . . . .231
Tamagno as Otello 242
Ella Russell 247
Lassalle 247
Jean de Reszke as Borneo ....... 257
Edouard de Reszke as Frdi'e Laurent . . . . 268
Luigi Mancinelli . 276
Lady de Grey ........ 276
The Waterloo Chamber, Windsor Castle .... 281
Paderewski ......... 294
Sir Charles Hall6 303
Lady Hall6 303
Patti as Juliette . . . . . . . . .311
Patti, about 1861 311
Patti as Marguerite 326
Patti as Ninetta . . . . . . . . 326
David Bispham as the Due de Longueville .... 333
Eugene Oudin as the Templar 333
"Birds of a Feather" 339
Gounod 346
Tschaikowsky 346
• • •
Xlll
List of Illustrations
PAGE
Van Rooy as Wotan ....... 352
Plan^on as Mephistopheles ....... 352
Emma Eames as Juliette ...... 358
Alvary as Siegfried . . . . . . . .367
Calve as Carmen ........ 373
Mascagni 380
Leoncavallo 380
Suzanne Adams as Marguerite 389
Alvarez as Otello ........ 389
Piatti .395
Joachim ......... 395
Ternina 405
Eugen d' Albert 416
Arthur Chappell . . . . . . . .416
Nordica as Briinnhilde . . . . . . . 421
Maurice Grau . . , 428
Puccini 428
Sir Joseph Barnby 434
Edward Elgar 434
Schumann-Heink as Ortriid ...... 440
Fritzi Schefe as Nedda 445
Marie Brema as Amneris 445
Lilli Lehmann as Isolde . . . . . . 451
Dippel as Siegfried ........ 458
Scotti as Don Giovanni ....... 458
Gadski as Elisabeth ........ 463
Clara Butt 469
Sims Reeves 469
xiv
PREFATORY NOTE
Not the least valuable asset of a life largely spent
among artists is a good memory. From an early
age I cultivated the faculty of making mental
notes ; and, like most faculties, innate or acquired,
it grew until it developed into second nature.'
During my quarter of a century's work as a Lon-
don musical critic, I seldom found it necessary to
do more than jot down a word or two in the mar-
gin of a programme as a preliminary to the writing
of an article. I accustomed "my eye and ear to
take records of what I saw and heard; and, where
I happened to be sufficiently interested, those
records assumed a more or less permanent form.
Most of the purely personal incidents related in
these pages appear in print for the first time. So,
also, do the letters which I have ventured to select
for publication from a numerous autograph col-
lection. Where the originals of these letters are
in a foreign tongue, the English translation only is
given. I have endeavored, save in one or two
special instances, to avoid mere biographical de-
XV
Prefatory Note
tails, particularly in the case of those musicians,
dead and living, whose careers are in all essential
matters familiar to the public.
My object is rather to furnish sketches of fa-
mous musical personages, and to set before the
reader hitherto unrecorded scenes and events in
their lives, together with slight studies of tem-
perament and character, which may be of value
in so far as they tend to throw a side-light upon
the personality of the notable individuals with
whom they deal. At the same time, by placing
these as nearly as possible in chronological order,
and supplementing them with brief accounts of
all the prominent debuts and first performances
that I have personally witnessed, the outcome is a
tolerably complete picture of operatic and musical
life in England during the last three decades of
the nineteenth century.
By far the most important feature of these
chronicles is the history of the remarkable re-
naissance of Opera effected through the ambitious
spirit and energy of the late Sir Augustus Harris,
impresario of the Royal Opera, Covent Grarden;
manager of Drury Lane ; and sometime Sheriff of
London. The inception, growth, and development
of that interesting movement have not, so far as
I am aware, been traced by any other writer ; and
xvi
Prefatory Note
the story acquires added value and significance
from the fact that the scheme of fashionable
Opera evolved by Augustus Harris in London
is absolutely identical with that so ably carried
on, until the spring of the present year, by Maurice
Grau in New York.
I trust that I have succeeded in accomplishing
my task without overstepping the border-line
which should separate the friend from the critic.
I have always watched that delicate yet important
boundary with scrupulous care ; and, happily, I
have found it easy to observe and obey without
loss of good-will or esteem on either side. Hence
the existence of warm friendly ties with so many
of the distinguished artists whom it has been my
privilege to meet — ties very dear to me, yet the
delight whereof, under less well-balanced condi-
tions, I should regretfully have been compelled to
deny myself.
Heemann Klein.
New York, April, 1903.
XVll
THIETY YEARS OF
MUSICAL LIFE IN LONDON
THIRTY YEARS OF
MUSICAL LIFE IN LONDON
CHAPTER I
Early Norwich days— A famous English festival— My school-
master describes Paganini — Jenny Lind — Spohr — Juhus
Benedict— Benedict and Beethoven— Theresa Tietjens— A
great artist and a brave woman.
I WAS born in the musical city of Norwich. The
epithet ^'mnsicaP' is not undeserved. Search
the whole United Kingdom through, and you will
scarcely find a place that can boast an older or
more intimate connection with the *^ divine art^^
than the ancient capital of East Anglia. Its noble
cathedral, its threescore churches, its chapels with-
out number, are ever helping to create and sustain
in the population a love of music. Above all, it
is the scene, once in every three years, of a famous
musical gathering. The ^^ Norfolk and Norwich
Musical Festival'' (to give the full title) not only
vies in age with those of the Three Choirs,— Glou-
cester, Worcester, and Hereford,— but very nearly
ranks in importance with the triennial meetings of
its richer sisters, Birmingham and Leeds.
My parents were not musical by profession ; but
the fact that both were engaged in professional
Thirty Years of
vocations, coupled with their ardent love of the
art, brought them into association with many of
the operatic and vocal celebrities who visited the
city from time to time. Our house on Elm Hill
stood within sound of the cathedral chimes, and
barely a stone's throw from St. Andrew's Hall,
the quaint old Gothic building, half church, half
concert-room, in which the festival rehearsals and
performances were always held.
From the first I seemed to breathe the ^ ' festival
atmosphere'' of the place. On the very evening I
was born (the date, I may mention, was July 23,
1856) there was a rehearsal of Sir Michael Costa's
^ ' Eli ' ' ; and as the voices of the choir were wafted
through the windows on the hot summer air, the
question arose whether it would not be appropriate
to name me after the venerable priest who was
the hero of the oratorio then being interpreted.
However, it had been determined that in the event
of my being a boy I should receive my father's
name of Hermann. Fortunately, that decision was
adhered to, and I was spared the fate of being ad-
dressed by my intimate friends for the whole of
my life as ' ' Eli. ' '
The echoes of the festival proceedings pene-
trated even the thick walls of my school class-
rooms. For the worthy principal of Opie House
School (so named after the gifted Norwich painter,
John Opie, who had once occupied the red-bricked
dwelling which still stands opposite St. Clement's
Church) was a highly respected member of the
■>IF'
EXTERIOR
INTERIOR
ST. ANDREW'S HALL, NORWICH
From photographs by C. Brand & Co., Norwich
Musical Life in London
festival chorus. He owned a capital bass voice,
and was a first-rate musician. What is more, he
knew a good singer when he heard one. It was his
delight to describe to us how superbly Sims Reeves
had sung ^'Deeper and deeper still' ^; with what
thrilling expression Mile. Tietjens had phrased *'I
know that my Redeemer liveth"; how inimitable
Mme. Sainton-Dolby had been in '^He was de-
spised"; and what a remarkable voice he had
heard in the bass solos of the ^^ Messiah ''—that of
the famous Weiss, who composed the music of
^^The Village Blacksmith."
He could go back a good many years, too, could
my musical schoolmaster. When in the mood he
would tell us how, as a youth, he had been taken
to St. Andrew's Hall to hear the great Paganini.
With an air of awe he would describe the weird
aspect and lean, lank form of the illustrious fiddler,
as he stood upon the platform in his closely but-
toned swallow-tailed coat, playing amid a silence
so intense that his auditors almost feared lest their
breathing might break the spell.
' ' Never before or since, ' ' my teacher would say,
^^have I seen an audience wrought to such a pitch
of excitement. It was partly the influence of the
individual himself, no doubt; but it was also due
to the strangely wonderful beauty of the tone that
he obtained from his instrument, and the fascina-
tion of a method which completely concealed the
nature of the difficulties he surmounted. As I
listened I seemed to forget that Paganini was a
Thirty Years of
man. Gradually he assumed the character of a
magician, an executant endowed with positively
supernatural powers!'' And such I imagine was
the impression actually produced by this marvel-
ous violinist upon nine out of every ten persons
who heard him.
It was in St. Andrew's Hall, also, that I was
vouchsafed as a boy the privilege of hearing, on
a solitary occasion only, one of the greatest artists
the world has ever possessed. I refer to Jenny
Lind. The close association which existed between
that gifted and noble woman and the city of Nor-
wich is a matter of common knowledge. A bishop
of Norwich (Dr. Stanley) it was who persuaded
the first of the ^^ Swedish Nightingales" to aban-
don, on religious grounds, the operatic stage;
which premature and much-regretted event oc-
curred in 1849. But the famous singer frequently
visited Norwich, and more than once she appeared
at concerts given on behalf of the funds of the
Jenny Lind Infirmary for Children, an institution
founded by her and still flourishing in the old city.
At one of these concerts, some time during the
middle ^^ sixties," I heard Jenny Lind sing. The
voice, I remember perfectly, was as exquisitely
clear and fresh as a young girl's; its sweet tones
haunted me long afterward. Of the wondrous art
of the great singer I was too young to judge ; but
I shall, never forget what she sang, or the rare
wealth of religious sentiment with which she in-
vested the prayer of Agathe in the favorite scena
8
Musical Life in London
from ^^Der Freischiitz/ ' Upon the stage, of
course, the heroine of Weher 's opera always kneels
while uttering her touching appeal for her lover's
safe return, and Jenny Lind also knelt while sing-
ing the same passage upon the platform of St.
Andrew's Hall on the occasion I am alluding to.^
In later years Mme. Jenny Lind-Goldschmidt
used to be a conspicuous figure at the concerts of
the London Bach Choir, whereof her husband, Mr.
Otto Goldschmidt, was the first conductor. She
would modestly take her place in the front row of
the sopranos, with the most musical of the Queen's
daughters, the Princess Christian of Schleswig-
Holstein, for her near companion. Moreover, she
took an active part in the training of the female
voices, and to her skilful instruction was in a large
measure due the facility and brilliancy with which
they executed the difficult passages in Bach's B
minor Mass (performed for the first time in Eng-
land April 26, 1876). The great singer died at
Malvern, November 2, 1887, and seven years later
I was present at the unveiling of the tablet, with
medallion portrait, which now does honor to her
memory in the south transept of Westminster Ab-
bey. She is so far the only musical artist, other
than a composer, whose lineaments have been ex-
posed upon the walls of that ancient fane.
* My boyish imagination can hardly have led me astray in this
matter. Besides, it was precisely the kind of impulse that the
emotional exaltation of this deeply religious woman would have
prompted her to yield to, regardless of the every-day convention-
alities of the concert-room.
Thirty Years of
''If Birmingham had its Mendelssohn, Norwich
had its Spohr.'^ This pardonable boast, familiar
enough to my boyish ears, had reference to the visit
paid by Lonis Spohr to Norwich in 1839 (when he
conducted his oratorio ''Calvary'^ and played a
couple of his violin works), and also to the fact that
he had expressly composed his oratorio ' ' The Fall
of Babylon'^ for the festival of 1842.^ Some thir-
teen years later an effort was made to persuade the
Cassel composer to provide another novelty, and
my father was requested by the Festival Committee
to carry on the German correspondence with him.
Spohr undertook the task, and promised to com-
plete a new work for the festival of 1857. But at
that time his powers were beginning to decline, and
he plainly declared himself no longer satisfied with
what he wrote; while the accident which at that
time broke his arm fairly precluded all question of
further progress with the work. Two years later
he died.
* It is interesting to recall that a section of the Norwich clergy
raised a tremendous outcry against the performance in the con-
cert-room of * * Calvary, ' ' on account of the nature of the libretto.
It was declared to be pure sacrilege thus to perform a musical
illustration of the events of the Crucifixion. Nevertheless, the
oratorio was duly given under Spohr 's direction, and was received
with great enthusiasm. In London, in 1847, the same opposition
arose when a series of Spohr 's works was announced by the Sa-
cred Harmonic Society. This time it proved successful, for at
the last moment ''Calvary" was omitted and ''The Fall of
Babylon" given in its place. Thirty-five years later, when
Gounod's "Kedemption" was produced at Birmingham, the
British public was not quite so squeamish.
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Musical Life in London
One of the proudest moments that I can recall
in my early Norwich life was my being presented
to Mr. (afterward Sir) Julius Benedict, who of-
ficiated as conductor of the festivals from 1842
until 1878, when he was succeeded by the present
conductor, Mr. Alberto Randegger. By the light
of subsequent experience, I learned to realize that
Benedict was one of the worst conductors who ever
held a baton. His head was invariably buried in
his score; his arms were ever uplifted, as though
seeking a higher level than the shoulder-joints
naturally permitted. He rarely gave a cue until it
was too late to be of practical value ; and he entirely
lacked the magnetic power and the sense of en-
semble that should be the primary gifts of a good
conductor. But at the time I am speaking of these
deficiencies were noted only by the few. The vast
majority of East Anglian amateurs, including my
youthful self, were satisfied to look upon Sir Julius
not only as a great conductor, but as a musician
whose cooperation brought honor and glory to the
festival. Was he not the favorite pupil and friend
of Weber? Had he not, when a young man of
twenty-three, seen and shaken hands with the im-
mortal Beethoven?
I have been introduced to Verdi and Gounod; I
have known and spoken with Wagner; but, great
as those privileges undoubtedly were, I do not
think they aroused in me the same feelings of
mingled pride and awe that I experienced when,
as a boy, I was first addressed by a man who had
13
Thirty Years of
stood face to face with Beethoven. In his biog-
raphy of Weber, Sir Julius Benedict describes in
glowing language how he met the great composer
at his publishers* in Vienna, and expresses the
great joy and surprise that he felt when Beethoven
** actually condescended'' to speak with him. He
adds:
I see him yet before me, and who could ever forget
those striking features? The lofty, vaulted forehead
with thick gray and white hair encircling it in the most
picturesque disorder, that square lion's nose, that broad
chin, that noble and soft mouth. Over the cheeks, seamed
with scars from the smallpox, was spread a high color.
From under the bushy, closely compressed eyebrows
flashed a pair of piercing eyes; his thick-set Cyclopean
figure told of a powerful frame. He approached me
with his inseparable tablet in his hand, and in his usual
brusque manner addressed me: ^'You are Weber's pu-
pil?" I gave an affirmative nod. ' ' Why does n 't he
come to see me? Tell him to come to Baden with Has-
linger," pointing to Steiner's partner. Asking for his
tablet, I wrote in it, "May I come too?" He smiled,
replying, *'Ja, kleiner naseweis" (Yes, you saucy little
fellow).
And then follows an account of the visit, too
lengthy for quotation here.
It was at the suggestion of Malibran that Bene-
dict left Paris and went to England in 1835. He
quickly made his mark as an operatic composer,
and successfully competed with Michael Balfe and
14
Musical Life in London
Vincent Wallace in the race for fame. Like them,
he wrote and produced many operas; like them,
he left only one that really promises to survive.
Indeed, Benedict's ^'Lily of Killarney'' is the sole
English opera of the so-called ^^ ballad" type that
still shares popularity with ^'The Bohemian GirP'
and ^ * Maritana. ' ' Although such a mediocre con-
ductor, he was an admirable accompanist. He had
studied under Hummel at Weimar before going to
Weber, and was a quite capable pianist. His repu-
tation in this capacity was not a little enhanced by
his association with Jenny Lind on her memorable
tour in the United States (1850-52). At any rate,
after his return to London his services ^^at the
piano'' were in request at every kind of musical
function, and he was practically the sole accom-
panist employed at the Monday Popular Concerts
during the first twenty years of their existence.
When I first made Benedict's acquaintance he
was not far short of seventy. Still a hale old man
and a wonderfully hard worker, his eyes were nev-
ertheless beginning to give him trouble, and, when
conducting, the distance between his head and
the score was growing shorter and shorter. He
was much upset by the financial failure of the Nor-
wich festival of 1869 and the comparatively poor
results achieved in 1872 and 1875. The latter was
the first of these meetings at which I performed the
functions of a musical critic, as the representative
of my uncle's newspaper, the ^^ Norwich Argus."
When it was over, Sir Julius asked me to come and
15
Thirty Years of
see him, in order to talk over a series of articles pro-
posing some radical modifications in the festival
management. These I wrote, and they duly ap-
peared in the ' ^ Argus, ' ' and certain of the sugges-
tions were carried out with good effect at the fes-
tival of 1878. But, as it turned out, that was the
last of the Norwich festivals that Benedict was to
direct. He shortly afterward underwent an opera-
tion for cataract, and then— married again! To
add to his troubles, he incurred severe losses in a
provincial operatic speculation with the then im-
presario of Covent Garden, the late Frederic Gye.
He gradually relinquished all public work, and
died in June, 1885, at the ripe age of eighty-one.
Among the great prime donne who sang in Nor-
wich during the ^^ sixties" and ^ ^ seventies, ' ' none
was more deservedly popular than Theresa Tiet-
jens. Those of my American readers who saw her
when she appeared with Mr. Mapleson^s troupe at
the Academy of Music, New York, in 1876, cannot
fail to have a vivid recollection of her genius
both as a singer and an actress. Then, however,
she was just approaching the tragical climax of
her brilliant career. When I first heard her, at
one of the general rehearsals for the festival of
1866 (some eight years after her debut in England),
her voice was not only fresh, powerful, and pene-
trating, but it possessed in a greater degree than
then that sympathetic charm— that curiously dra-
matic ^' human" quality— which was perhaps its
most notable attribute.
i6
I 1(1111 a photograph b^ Elliott .v try, London
TIETJENS
AS LUCREZIA BORGIA
Musical Life in London
Her style was marked by the same rare individ-
uality. Her phrasing offered a curious blending
of vigor and grace ; and she had a trick of employ-
ing the portamento when approaching a high note,
which in any other singer might have been thought
almost ugly, but in Tietjens seemed both natural
and artistic. At the same time, her attack was
superb. Never have I heard the opening phrase
of the * ' Inflammatus ' ' in Rossini 's ' ' Stabat Mater ' ^
delivered with such magnificent energy and such
absolute purity of tone. To hear Tietjens in those
days sing '^Let the bright Seraphim '^ (especially
to the trumpet obbligato of Tom Harper) was a
treat never to be forgotten.
Theresa Tietjens was one of the few leading
sopranos of her time ( Adelina Patti was also one ;
Emma Albani, another) who could be regarded as
equally distinguished interpreters of oratorio and
opera. If Lemmens-Sherrington, being a born
Englishwoman, could claim to be the legitimate
successor of Clara Novello, the position of the dra-
matic ^^star'^ of oratorio was no less truly shared
by Rudersdorff and Tietjens, until the former took
up her residence in the United States (1872), leav-
ing her friend and rival to reign supreme. Hear-
ing Tietjens as I did in oratorio, then, some years
before I knew her in opera, I was enabled to judge
even more accurately of the wonderful effect that
resulted from the combination of her histrionic
and vocal powers. On the stage she was a trage-
dienne in the highest sense of the term. The op-
19
Thirty Years of
portunity of arriving at that conclusion was af-
forded me by the artist herself when I was in my
sixteenth year. And the memory of her glorious
impersonation, on that occasion, of Valentine(^^lnes
Huguenots'') has never faded, notwithstanding
the profound impression subsequently created by
her embodiments of Lucrezia Borgia, Norma,
Medea, Donna Anna, Semir amide, Countess Alma-
viva, Ortrud (one of her later efforts), and, per-
haps greatest of all, Leonora in ^'Fidelio."
I witnessed two of her performances as Lucrezia
Borgia which deserve special mention. The first
of these (May 4, 1872) took place at Drury Lane,
and was remarkable not only for the exceptional
beauty and grandeur of Tietjens's assumption, but
because on that night Italo Campanini made his
debut in London as Gennaro, and was forthwith
hailed (somewhat prematurely, however) as the
successor of Mario and Giuglini. The cast further
included Faure as the Duke and the ever-delightful
Zelia Trebelli as Maffio Orsini, while Sir Michael
Costa was the conductor. That was a night of
triumphs.
The other representation (Her Majesty's Thea-
tre, May 19, 1877) is fraught with sad memories
and undying admiration for a courageous woman
and a true artist. It had been known for some time
that Theresa Tietjens was suffering from cancer;
and, after much hesitation, the doctors decided to
perform an operation before the end of May.
** Lucrezia" was announced for the 19th, and
among the prima donna 's friends it was pretty well
20
Musical Life in London
understood that this would be her last appearance
before the operation was performed.
"When the day arrived Tietjens was far too ill
to be really fit to sing. It was distinctly against
her medical advisers' wish that she insisted upon
keeping faith with her manager and the public—
a practice that she had persistently adhered to
throughout her career. How she contrived to get
through the opera I shall never understand. It can
only be compared to some splendid example of
martyrdom. She fainted after each of the acts,
but immediately on recovering consciousness de-
cided to proceed with the performance. Never so
much as a look or gesture betrayed to her audience
the mortal anguish she was suffering. Only the
initiated knew how much of reality there was in
the terrible scream of agony uttered by Liicrezia
in the final scene— when she perceives that her son
is dead. As it rang through the house the audience
shuddered. Yet the brave artist would not shirk
her fall at the end. What it cost her could be
guessed, however, from the fact that after the cur-
tain had been twice raised in response to rapturous
plaudits, she still lay motionless upon the ground.
She had once more become insensible.
In the following week the operation was per-
formed, but the case was hopeless, and on October
3, 1877, Theresa Tietjens breathed her last. She
was laid to rest at Kensal Green Cemetery, in the
presence of a vast crowd, amid tokens of public
grief such as no foreign artist before her had ever
been vouchsafed on English soil.
21
CHAPTER II
Youthful work and experiences in London— My brother Max—
French refugees of 1871— Alboni— Joseph Joachim— James
Davison and the " Pops" — Manuel Garcia, teacher and friend
— The great master's method— His sister Malibran.
MY real musical life in London began in 1874.
Down to that year my parents had never
contemplated my entering upon a musical or even
a journalistic career. When they left Norwich in
1866 and went to reside in the metropolis, I re-
mained behind in the care of my grandparents and
did not rejoin them until nearly three years later.
Meanwhile my younger brother, Max, had shown
considerable aptitude for the violin, and was taking
lessons from Louis Ries, the well-known ^^ second
violin'' of the Monday ^^Pops." Afterward he
studied under the late J. T. Carrodus, and joined
the orchestra of the Royal Italian Opera, Covent
Garden, of which Carrodus was for many years
the cJief-d^attaque.^ I used to play Max's accom-
* Subsequently my brother went to America to become a mem-
ber of the well-known Mendelssohn Quintet Club. For three
seasons he was principal second violin of the Boston Symphony
Orchestra, under Gerieke and Henschel. In 1888 he accompanied
Dr. F. H. Cowen to Melbourne as leader of the Centennial Ex-
hibition Orchestra, and resided in that city until 1891. His
health beginning to fail, he returned to Europe and for a time
resumed his place in the principal London orchestras. He died
at Cairo in 1894.
22
From an original painting by Ethel Wright
HERMANN KLEIN
Musical Life in London
paniments in the family circle; and it was solely
the fraternal spirit of emulation, impelling me to
try to shine side by side with my younger brother,
that led me to keep up my study of music.
The terrors of the Franco-Prussian war (1870-
1871) drove to London large numbers of refu-
gees, many of them celebrities connected with the
leading musical and dramatic institutions of Paris.
Not a few of these were compelled to ' ' bring grist
to the mill'^ by appearing upon the stage and in
the concert-rooms of the British capital. It was a
golden opportunity for hearing and seeing some of
the finest artists of the day ; and, thanks mainly to
the friendly intercourse existing between my pa-
rents and certain magnates of the managerial
world, I was enabled to enjoy in an exceptional de-
gree the privileges of this ** chance of a lifetime.''
Not least of these managers was the famous John
Mitchell, of Old Bond Street, the mainstay of the
opera, who first introduced the ^ ^ French Plays ' ' in
London, and taught English audiences to under-
stand and appreciate the consummate art of their
neighbors across the Channel.
Then it was that I went to Covent Garden and
heard for the first time Adelina Patti, Pauline
Lucca, Scalchi, Tamberlik, Mario, Bettini, Faure,
Cotogni, Tagliafico; or, at Her Majesty's, Chris-
tine Nilsson, Tietjens, Trebelli, Marimon, lima
di Murska, Mongini, Gardoni, Capoul, Wachtel,
Agnesi, Rota, Santley, Foli, Carl Formes. Then
it was that in the concert-room I listened to the
25
Thirty Years of
still marvelous voices of Alboni, Carlotta Patti,
and Sims Reeves; heard delightedly the glorious
playing of such violinists as Sivori, Vieuxtemps,
Wieniawski, Neruda, and Joachim ; and reveled in
the never-to-be-forgotten art of Clara Schumann
and Alfredo Piatti. Looking back after thirty
years, and with every wish to avoid the objection-
able manner of the laudator temp oris acti, it seems
to me that that was a veritable ^^age of giants/' a
period of artistic constellations which, as far as
London at least is concerned, has never since been
approached.
Among the most interesting of the French refu-
gees of 1871 were the members of the Comedie
Frangaise. They gave a memorable series of
representations at one of the London theatres, se-
lecting for it most of the gems of their matchless
repertoire, with casts that included such artists as
Got, Delauny, Mounet-Sully, Worms, Febvre, the
Coquelins, Mmes. Sarah Bernhardt, Blanche Pier-
son, Bartet, Barretta, lieichemberg, and Samary.
If I am not mistaken, it was during this season that
Sarah Bernhardt made her London debut. I saw
her for the first time in her exquisite embodiment
of Dona Sol in Victor Hugo's ^^Hernani.'' My
father, who saw her in * ' Andromaque ' ' and
'^Phedre,'' told me that he considered her little,
if aught, inferior to the celebrated Rachel, whose
triumphs he had often witnessed in Paris during
the ^ ' forties. ' '
Sarah Bernhardt at this period of her career re-
26
Musical Life in London
vealed the iire of genius more completely as an
exponent of classical tragedy than in modern roles.
In the latter she had then to contend with two
very distinguished rivals, Mme. Fargueil and Mile.
Aimee Desclee, both of whom had already played
in London under John Mitchell's management. I
remember how delightful Fargueil was at the St.
James's Theatre in the plays of Alexandre Dumas
fils; while the Camille and the Frou-Frou of Aimee
Desclee (the latter her original creation) have
never been surpassed. In later years, however,
Sarah Bernhardt proved that she had grasped the
exquisite art of these gifted women as surely as she
had inherited the mantle of Rachel. And for this
reason I am inclined to regard her as the great-
est * ^ all-round ' ' actress that the world has ever
known.
Marietta Alboni, Contessa di Pepoli, the most
famous contralto of the nineteenth century, was
another of the unwilling exiles who found a home
in London in 1871. I then heard her sing on two
occasions. The first time was in the ^^Messe
Solennelle" of her beloved teacher and friend,
Rossini, which the master had rescored for full
orchestra some four years previous, — in fact, only
a few months before he died.* Thirteen years had
^At Eossini's funeral in Paris (November 21, 1868) the prin-
cipal musical feature was the singing of the duet '^Quis est
homo," from his ''Stabat Mater," by Adelina Patti and Alboni.
M. Gustave Choquet remarks (Grove's Dictionary, Vol. Ill) : ''To
hear that beautiful music rendered by two such voices, and in
the presence of such artists, over the grave of the composer, was
27
Thirty Years of
elapsed since Alboni was last heard in London,
and some time since she had retired from the stage
altogether. Even then she was only in her forty-
ninth year, and, despite her unusual stoutness, her
tones retained well-nigh all their pristine charm
of quality and organ-like richness of volume. What
a magnificent voice it was! How marvelous— for
a pure contralto— its evenness and range! Mr.
Julian Marshall, in his article on Alboni in Grove's
Dictionary, describes her compass as "fully two
octaves, from G to G.'' To be correct, he should
have added quite another half-octave to the head
register and nearly as much below ; for Alboni sang
with perfect ease to the upper C, and could descend
when she pleased to the middle space of the bass
clef —altogether a scale extending not far short of
three octaves ! The purity and fluency of her style
were indescribable. She was one of the last great
exemplars of the old Italian school.
The second time I heard Alboni was at a concert
given in a private house in Welbeck Street, Cav-
endish Square, by Alessandro Romili, a young
Italian who, prior to the war, had acted as ac-
companist in Paris to the well-known singer and
teacher Delle Sedie. I recollect how perfectly she
sang some French pieces and a new romanza ("II
primo amore," I think it was called) expressly
to feel in the truest sense the genius of Rossini, and the part
which h*e has played in the music of the nineteenth century. ' '
The artists referred to were a group of some eighteen fa-
mous singers who, on the same occasion, took part with the
pupils of the Conservatoire in the "Prayer" from "Moi'se. "
28
From a photograph by Disderi, now iu tlic cuUcctiou ol' Evert Janseu Weudell
ALBONI
Musical Life in London
composed for her by Romili. But what dwells
most vividly in my memory in connection with this
concert is her extreme kindness to my brother Max,
who was down in the same programme for a violin
solo. The great artist insisted on sitting among
the audience to listen to the little English fiddler
(then about thirteen) ; and he had just started
his solo when one of his strings broke. He gave
one glance of consternation round the room and
then incontinently burst into tears. The audience
looked half amused ; but Alboni rose from her seat,
walked to my brother, and, kissing him upon the
forehead, said, loudly enough for every one to hear,
^'N'importe, mon petit ami; ne pleurs pas! Get
accident-la aurait pu arriver a Sivori lui-meme ! ' '^
Whereupon the boy dried his tears, mended his
string, and went through his solo with entire
success.
In the spring of the following year (1872) Max
obtained a letter of introduction to Joseph
Joachim. An appointment was made, and one
morning we found ourselves in the presence of
the ^'king of violinists" at the house of his late
brother, Henry Joachim, with whom he always re-
sided when staying in London. I do not know
which of us was the more nervous. Max or myself
(I was there as his accompanist) ; but I do know
that he utterly failed to do himself justice. After
he had played a page or two of one of Rode 's con-
^'^Never mind, my little friend; don't cry! That accident
could have happened to Sivori himself!"
31
Thirty Years of
certos, Herr Joachim stopped him and asked
whether he intended making ^'fiddling'' his pro-
fession. ^^Yes,'' meekly replied my brother.
*^Well, in that case," continued the great man, in
not unkindly tones, ^^I don't think you need play
to me any more for the present. You have still a
great deal to do, apart from learning how to hold
your violin properly, and how to keep your elbow
to your side when you draw your bow across the
strings. But you have talent. When you have
studied hard for another year or two, I shall be
glad to hear you play again.'' After which, he
came to see us out at the front door, and we left
the house in a not altogether enviable frame of
mind. Of myself he barely took any notice; but
six years later we were destined to meet under
more favorable circumstances, and to begin a
friendship which, I am proud to say, has endured
without break dowa to the present time.
It was during this particular decade that the
unique powers of Joseph Joachim reached their
prime. I had now become a regular attendant
at the ^'Pops," and it was often my privilege to
sit there beside my lamented friend James W. Da-
vison, the critic of the * ^ Times ' ' and proprietor of
the ' ' Musical World ' ' ; the man who helped Arthur
Chappell to establish those famous concerts, and
who for twenty years or more wrote the analytical
programmes which constituted one of their most
important educational features. One Saturday af-
ternoon I was sitting by Davison's side as a glori-
32
Musical Life in London
ous treat was nearing its close. Joachim liad with
marvelous lire led one of the ^ ^ Rasoumowsky "
quartets; he had played the Bach ^^Chaconne"
as he alone in the world could play it; and now
he was taking part in Schumann 's noble pianoforte
quintet, with Mme. Schumann, Louis Ries, Lud-
wig Straus, and Piatti for his companions.
Just before the finale, the old critic turned to
me and said in his abrupt, characteristic way : ^ ^ My
boy, mind you mark this day with a red letter ! I
have known Joachim ever since he made his debut
here as a lad of thirteen, under Mendelssohn, at
the Philharmonic in '44 [about thirty years pre-
vious], but never have I heard him play as he
has played this afternoon. From first to last he
has been like one inspired. '^ The writer of these
recollections took up the record for the five and
twenty years that were to follow. Still the grand
old violinist came regularly to London, after his
former associates one by one had dropped ^'out
of the running'';^ and still he continued to play
* Mr. Eies is the sole surviving member of the original Monday
' ' Pop ' ' Quartet. Of the artists named above Dr. Joachim is hap-
pily still living; but he no longer appears at these concerts.
Mme. Schumann died in 1896, Mr. Ludwig Straus in 1899, and
Signor Piatti in 1901. When Mr. Eies retired in 1897, I received
from him the following letter: ''Dear Mr. Klein: I gave my-
self the pleasure of calling upon you to-day, but was not fortunate
enough to find you at home, and therefore write these few lines,
telling you— what perhaps you may have heard already— that I
have this season resigned my post at the Popular Concerts, after
holding it for thirty-nine years! So I say 'LebewohP to you
as a public man, and thank you for all the kindness you have
22
Thirty Years of
season after season, with all the supreme art of
yore. Yet never again at any given moment did
the absolute inspiration of that afternoon seem to
return to him in its full glory. Davison was right.
It marked the very apex of Joachim's career.
In the spring of 1874 there occurred an event
which was destined to exercise an important influ-
ence upon my career. Manuel Garcia, the great
teacher of singing, came to live under my parents'
roof. We occupied a large house at the corner of
Bentinck Street and Welbeck Street, Cavendish
Square,— then, as now, the recognized fashionable
quarter for London professional people,— and
Signor Garcia^ took the entire ground floor for his
^ ^ studio ' ' and dwelling apartments.
I should like to describe the brother of Malibran
and Pauline Viardot as he was at that time. He
had just entered upon his seventieth year, but in
appearance and bearing he did not seem much past
fifty. He had a light, buoyant step, always walked
quickly, and had a keen, observant eye, which, when
he spoke, would light up with all the fire and ani-
mation of youth. His dark complexion and his
habit of rapid gesticulation bespoke his Southern
shown me. I shall now be amongst the audience at the ' * Pops, ' '
where I hope to have the pleasure of meeting you sometimes.
With kind regards, Yours sincerely, Louis Kies. September 30,
1897."
^ In virtue of Garcia 's Spanish birth and descent, the prefix
*^Senor" is frequently used. But in London, where he settled
down in 1850, he is always spoken of as " Signor ' ' Garcia, and
is so described in the archives of the Eoyal Academy of Music
and other institutions to which he was attached as a professor.
34
Musical Life in London
origin ; and although equally at home in Spanish,
Italian, French, and English, he always betrayed
a decided preference for conversing in the French
language. His modesty was remarkable. He
could rarely be induced to talk about himself ; but
in his opinions he was firm almost to obstinacy,
and a prejudice once formed was as difficult to re-
move as a liking. In argument he was a close rea-
soner, and would be either a doughty opponent or
a warm advocate. The middle line never attracted
him. But at all times he was a true, stanch, and
loyal friend.
Fortunately, Signor Garcia took a considerable
fancy to me. He was fond of discussing politics,
but, having little time to read the papers, would
generally ask me for the latest news. He openly
expressed his disgust with the policy of the Liberal
Government of that day, and found in myself a
sympathetic supporter of his views. About music
I was afraid for a long while to talk with him.
One day, however, he heard me singing in a dis-
tant part of the house, and told my mother that I
had a very agreeable light tenor voice. She at
once asked him if he would be good enough to
give me some instruction. He readily consented,
and, within an hour, to my intense delight, I found
myself taking my first lesson from Manuel Garcia.
The master was then in his prime. For forty
years his pupils, from Jenny Lind down, had in-
cluded some of the best singers that Paris and
London provided, while among the many aspir-
35
Thirty Years of
ants for vocal fame who came to study with him
at our house in Bentinck Street were several whose
names yet enjoy a universal reputation. During
the eight or ten years that he lived with us, I studied
with him for nearly four, and heard him give many
scores of lessons beside those which I received.
To see and hear Garcia teach was ever a source
of unqualified pleasure. Even when annoyed by
a pupil's lack of ordinary intelligence, he seldom
became abrujDt or impatient ; and he never worried
or confused the student with technicalities not
actually essential to the accurate understanding
of his method. His voice had virtually gone, but
he would liberally employ its heaux restes to im-
part the idea for the proper emission of a note or
the phrasing of a passage. As often as not, the
sounds that he produced would be positively ugly ;
but they never failed to convey the desired sug-
gestion, and, though his own voice might tremble
with sheer weight of years, he never, to my know-
ledge, brought out a pupil whose tones were
marred by the slightest shade of vibrato.
Nor was he at any time guilty of the sin of
'^forcing'' a voice. I say so with all possible em-
phasis, because that untrue assertion has been
made on various occasions, and it should be con-
tradicted as a libel upon a teacher whose first rule
was ever to repress the breathing power and bring
it into proper proportion with the resisting force
of the throat and larynx. The contrary proceed-
ing would have been altogether inconsistent with
36
Musical Life in London
the system of the old Italian school, whereof
Garcia is the last really great teacher.
No less stupid, but rather more cruel, has been
the recent onslaught— emanating principally from
Paris— upon the act of vocal mechanism known as
the coup de la glotte, a term created by Garcia as
the result of his observations on the interior of the
larynx with the aid of the laryngoscope, of which
instrument he was the inventor. This term, first
employed in his wonderful ^'Traite complet de
1 'Art du Chant, ' ' ^ was merely meant to describe
the movement or * * stroke ' ' of the glottis in the act
of attacking a vocal sound— a movement as natural
as it is indispensable to the clean, definite striking
of a note by the human voice. Possibly the prac-
tice of the act in question has been worked to ex-
cess by would-be imitators of Garcia 's method ; but
certainly it was never so taught by him, and I have
never come across one of his pupils who had suf-
fered through its normal employment. Later on,
however, I shall have to refer to this subject again,
in order to quote in their proper place some words
used by the master to refute a particularly flagrant
attack upon the coup de la glotte.
I was barely twenty-two when I ceased taking
lessons from Signor Garcia. Our relations by that
time were those of very close friends. We used
to chat freely upon musical as well as other topics,
and I loved to ' ' draw him out ' ' upon the respective
^ Published in Paris, 1847, and afterward translated into Italian,
German, and English.
2,7
Thirty Years of
merits of the great Italian singers of bygone years.
I think his chief object of admiration was the cele-
brated Pasta, who lived the most brilliant portion
of her career in Paris during his own residence
there. ^ He would often speak of the ravishing
beauty of her voice, the perfection of her fiorituri,
and the grandeur of her dramatic conceptions. Yet
in his inmost heart, I fancy, his famous sister, Mali-
bran, reigned supreme. She was his junior by
three years, but at the period here referred to had
achieved triumphs unsurpassed by any singer of
her time, and yet she had been dead and buried
some forty years! He would describe her as the
most natural genius he had ever encountered, and
also the most precocious. A great deal that has
been related concerning her is purely imaginary;
but one perfectly true story is that of an incident
which happened at Naples one night when, a little
girl of five, she was playing the part of the child
in Paer's masterpiece, ^'Agnese."
In this opera there occurs a scene where a hus-
^ Giuclitta Pasta was one of the greatest Eossinian sopranos
of her time, besides being a superb emotional actress. She pos-
sessed a voice of immense range and power, and a remarkably-
impressive stage presence. She was born in 1798, made her debut
in 1815, and died in 1865.
Curiously enough, it was when acting as a substitute for Pasta
that Garcia 's elder sister, Malibran, in 1824, made her first ap-
pearance on any stage at the King's Theatre, London, as Bosina
in "II Barbiere. ' ' She was then sixteen. In the following year
the whole Garcia family went to America, wiiere they met with
immense success, producing no less than eleven new operas during
their first year in New York.
38
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Musical Life in London
band and wife, who have quarreled, are reunited
through the agency of their little daughter. The
tiny Malibran had attended all the rehearsals, and
so extraordinary was her memory that she knew
the whole opera by heart. On the night of the
performance, the prima donna, in the episode
above mentioned, either forgot her part or hesi-
tated a moment, when, lo ! the little girl by her side
instantly took up the melody and sang out with
such vigor and resonance that the entire house
heard her. The prima donna was about to inter-
fere when the audience shouted, ^^Brava! Don't
stop her. Let the child go on!" And go on the
child did, until she had sung through the entire
scene, amid an exhibition of true Italian enthu-
siasm.
How strange it seems when one reflects that the
venerable maestro who narrated to me this incident,
which he witnessed as a boy of eight, is still alive
and enjoying good health, and in full possession of
his faculties and his wonderful spirits ! He resides
with Mme. Garcia (his second wife) and their
two daughters at Cricklewood, one of the north-
western suburbs of London. What happened yes-
terday he does not always precisely remember ; but
the events of nearly a century ago he never forgets.
On March 17, 1904, all being well, Manuel Garcia
will be ninety-nine years of age !
41
CHAPTER III
Start of journalistic career— A musical critic at twenty—
"Lohengrin" in London— Carl Rosa— His memorable season
at the Princess's— Revival of English Opera— Early days of
"interviewing"— Sir Michael Costa— August Manns and
cheap orchestral music— Jean de Reszke's barytone debut.
NEVER having seriously contemplated becom-
ing a public singer, it was no great disap-
pointment when I found, after a couple of years'
study, that my voice gave no signs of developing
to proportions requisite for a stage career. Aut
Ccesar, aut nullus! I would either be an operatic
tenor or I would be content to be simply a good
amateur. The concert-room had no charms for
me. Nevertheless, while continuing my lessons
regularly with Signor Garcia, I had also to con-
sider the best means for earning a livelihood ; and,
as I have previously hinted, the opportunity pre-
sented itself in a highly congenial direction— that
of musical journalism. The work was calculated
to aid rather than impede my studies. It lay in
a field which, at the time I speak of, was far less
overrun than now, and it afforded me an entree
to every kind of musical performance, which in
itself was a liberal education for a young man with
my instincts and training.
42
Musical Life in London
I commenced active work as a journalist, then,
in 1875, as London correspondent of my uncle's
paper, the ^ ^ Norwich Argus. ' ' In 1877 I undertook
the direction of a publication called the *^ Operatic
and Dramatic Album, ' ' the duties of which brought
me into personal contact with some of the foremost
personages in the lyric and theatrical worlds. A
year later I was appointed musical and dramatic
critic of the '^Citizen,'' which post (during 1879
and part of 1880) I filled while acting as musical
critic upon the staff of that fine old weekly paper—
long since defunct— the ' ^ Examiner. ' ' Such, briefly
told, is the history of my first five years ' connection
with London journalism.
Two memorable events occurred in 1875. One
was the first production in London of Wagner's
^ ^ Lohengrin ' ' ; the other, the first appearance there
of the Carl Eosa Opera Company. The former was
regarded almost in the light of an experiment.
Never before had an opera by Wagner been per-
formed at Covent Garden. In 1870 his ' ' Fliegende
Hollander'' had been given at Drury Lane, under
the Italian title of ^ ^ L 'Ollandese Dannato" (Luigi
Arditi conducting), but without any very marked
success. And now here was ^ ^ Lohengrin, " a more
advanced example of the composer's method, about
to claim the suffrages of a public still notoriously
unprepared for the comprehension or enjoyment
of what was generally described as the ^* music of
the future. ' ' Yet, thanks to the growing numbers
of the German community, the event aroused in-
43
Thirty Years of
tense excitement, and the opera-house was packed
to overflowing. I think it was the worst perf orm-
a.nce of ^ ' Lohengrin ' ^ ever seen in an important
theatre. Albani (then in her third season) made
a sympathetic Elsa; Nicolini presented a heroic-
looking Lohengrin and sang wonderfully well, con-
sidering how completely out of his element he was
in Wagnerian opera ; and Cotogni did creditably as
Telramund. But the remainder of the cast were
beneath notice, while the chorus sang dreadfully
out of tune, and the orchestra, under Vianesi, did
its best to drown the singers throughout.
Yet, in spite of these drawbacks, the beauty of
the music exercised its inevitably powerful sway,
and the opera was received with a warmth that
grew and grew till it culminated in a tremendous
climax of enthusiasm. The ' ^ tooth-and-naiP ' op-
ponents of Wagner, who flourished exceedingly in
London at this time, were simply dumf ounded. In
all probability, ^ ^ Lohengrin ' ' was as new to them
as it was to Covent Garden habitues, and they did
not know whether to be more astonished at the
subtle fascination of the music or at the ease
with which its charm and significance had been
grasped by an ' ^ unripe ' ^ public. In vain did James
Davison print Cassandra-like utterances in the
^' Times'^; equally in vain did my dear and val-
ued friend Joseph Bennett limit himself to luke-
warm admiration in the columns of the ^* Tele-
graph." The success of ^'Lohengrin'' in London
was complete. So great was the demand to hear
44
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Musical Life in London
the opera that within a comparatively brief space
Mr. Mapleson had mounted it at Her Majesty's
with a cast including Christine Nilsson, Tietjens,
Campanini, and Galassi. On the whole, that was
perhaps the more satisfactory production of the
two, albeit I fancy Sir Michael Costa penetrated
very little further into the meaning and spirit of
Wagner's score than did his worthy countryman,
Signor Vianesi. His chief interest used to centre
in the proceedings of the swan, of which he inva-
riably spoke contemptuously as ^'Dat goose!''
When Carl Rosa first brought his troupe to the
Princess's Theatre, London, in September, 1875,
English opera was in a bad way. I am not pre-
pared to assert that it is in a much better way at
the present moment. Beyond doubt, however, its
fortunes, through the instrumentality of this la-
mented impresario, underwent a revival that was
of the utmost importance, not merely in its influ-
ence upon the popularity of opera in the vernacu-
lar, but in its effect, as a purely educational factor,
upon the subsequent course of operatic enterprise
both in England and America. How this latter
process came about I shall show later on. Mean-
while let it be said that Carl Rosa was the man
who first sounded the knell of ^'ballad-opera" as
a staple form of amusement, and lifted the taste
of the British public from its then commonplace
level to a plane more closely approaching that of
the cultivated audiences of Germany, Austria, and
France.
47
Thirty Years of
No one could have been better fitted for the task.
Rosa was a little over thirty, energetic and indus-
trious to a fault, an accomplished musician,^ an ex-
cellent conductor, and an experienced operatic
manager. His first wife, the gifted Mme. Parepa-
Rosa (whom he met and married in New York
in 1867), was the leading artist of the opera
company, which for several years achieved such
great success under their joint direction in the
United States. They had returned to London in
1873 with the intention of producing ** Lohengrin"
in English at Drury Lane, but that project was
abandoned in consequence of the death of Mme.
Parepa. The prima donna had been an intimate
friend of my cousin Mrs. J. M. Johnson, and it
was at the latter 's house on Maida Hill that I first
became acquainted with Carl Rosa. I met him
there one afternoon while his memorable season
at the Princess's was in progress. He had just
finished a long rehearsal and still had to conduct
the evening performance; but I remember being
much struck by his rare spirits and the irrepressible
energy with which he threw himself into an argu-
ment upon the subject of English musical taste.
^ ' You are surprised, ' ' he said, ^ ^ because they are
crowding the house for 'Figaro' and the *Water-
Carrier,' and you fancy it must be Santley that
is the draw and not the operas. But don't deceive
yourselves. This London public is now ripe for
^ Carl Rosa came to England first as a solo violinist, and made his
debut under August Manns at the Crystal Palace in 1866.
48
Musical Life in London
English opera of a better sort than Pyne and Har-
rison provided. It longs for something more than
ballad-operas and a 'star' or two. It wants good
works and, above all, a good ensemble. See how
it appreciates the 'Figaro' ensemble!^ Well, next
season I shall produce more unfamiliar operas and
a still stronger company. Then gradually I shall
introduce Wagner in English, beginning with ' The
Flying Dutchman,' and perhaps even test whether
London can stand a brand-new opera by a native
composer."
He was as good as his word. In the following
year, at the Lyceum, Carl Rosa brought out four
novelties, including Frederic H. Cowen's ''Pau-
line'' (a version of "The Lady of Lyons") and
Wagner's "Flying Dutchman." The latter, with
Santley in the title-role, made a tremendous hit.
Coming on top of the success of "Lohengrin"
and "Tannhauser" (the latter had been produced
in Italian at Co vent Garden just four months pre-
vious), it helped to complete the foundation for
the love and understanding of Wagner's mwsic
which now extend throughout the United King-
J J
* The fine performance of Mozart 's ' ' Marriage of Figaro
with which Carl Eosa opened his memorable campaign at the
Princess's Theatre, London, on September 11, 1875, has always
been referred to with pride as the best ever given in the English
language. Certainly I, for one, never heard a finer. The cast
included Santley as Figaro, Campobello (an Italianized Scotch-
man) as the Count, Aynsley Cook as Bartolo, Charles Lyall as
Antonio, Ostava Torriani (a Hamburg artist) as the Countess,
Josephine Yorke (an American contralto) as CheruMno, and
Eose Hersee as Susanna.
49
Thirty Years of
dom, embracing the entire range of the master ^s
works.
Carl Rosa was one of the most restless and in-
defatigable of industrious men. His plan was to
mount all his new productions in the provinces, so
as to bring them to the metropolis smoothed and
polished by frequent repetition. No sooner had
one season ended than he began preparing for the
next. In 1877 he did not visit London, and in the
October of that year he wrote me from Aberdeen :
I have been very busy bringing out "The Merry
Wives of AVindsor" (Nicolai), which you will be happy
to hear was a very great success. I am glad to learn
that you are getting connected with the London press,
and will be happy to give you information about my
future doings when the time comes; but any announce-
ments at present would, I think, be premature.
He was curiously diffident in the matter of ad-
vertisement, and his habit of avoiding rather than
seeking publicity offers a striking contrast to the
methods of the impresario of to-day. When I
knew he was coming to the Adelphi Theatre for
a spring season in 1878, I wrote to him asking for
portraits of himself and Miss Georgina Burns
(who had just made her debut as Anne Page in
' ^ The Merry Wives, ' ^ and subsequently became one
of the most popular sopranos on the English stage)
for publication in the ^^ Operatic and Dramatic Al-
bum.'' I received the following reply:
50
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Musical Life in London
Royal Amphitheatre, Liverpool,
January 8, 1878.
Dear Klein:
Miss Burns has no biography. She is quite a novice.
Of her success I have no doubt, but under the circum-
stances I think you had better not publish her picture,
as I quite understand that you should only give those
of well-known artists.
I will send you a biography of myself which appeared
in the ''Illustrated London News," and which you can
easily alter to suit your taste. But do you think le jeu
vaut la cha7idellef Do you think portraits of conductors
and managers are sufficiently attractive to the general
public? / tJmik not.
Sincerely yours,
Carl Rosa.
Those were not the days of '^interviewers'* or
'^ snapshots, ' ' and I frequently experienced diffi-
culty in persuading musical and dramatic celebri-
ties to furnish me with the requisite material for
writing notices of their careers. The portraits, of
course, could be obtained easily enough, but the
actresses and prima donnas always used to be
dreadfully afraid lest I should want to publish
their exact age. Miss Nelly Farren, for instance,
positively refused to permit a word to be written
about her, and her portrait went into the ''Album''
without a line of biographical detail. Another
well-known actress, Miss Ada Cavendish, sent me
her photo and autograph, but wrote : " I must say
53
Thirty Years of
you set me a rather difficult task when you ask me
for a biographical sketch of my career. Is it ab-
solutely necessary that you should insert one? I
really think that the public will take very little in-
terest in my early troubles in the profession. If,
therefore, you can do without it, please do so. ' ' On
the other hand, I sometimes got more information
than I really needed, or else I received corrections
and thanks after inadvertent errors had appeared
in type. Among letters of this kind was one from
the eminent conductor. Sir Michael Costa, who was
perhaps the severest martinet that ever wielded a
baton, but who never forgot that he was a gentle-
man and could be, when he chose, the very ^^pink
of politeness.'' As a rule, he did not pay much
attention to critics, youthful or otherwise; so, in
spite of the inaccuracies, I felt rather flattered
when I received from Sir Michael this extremely
courteous note:
59 EccLESTON Square, S. W.
Dear Sir:
I have received the biography that you have taken
the trouble to publish and kindly sent to me, for which
I am much obliged. Only two observations you will
allow me to make: first, that I composed ''Eli" and
"Naaman" for the Birmingham Musical Festivals of
1855 and 1864, not for the Sacred Harmonic Society;
and, secondly, that my rank in Grand Lodge [of Eng-
lish Freemasons] is Past Grand Warden, not Grand
Organist.
I do not hesitate to make the above remarks, knowing
54
Musical Life in London
how correct and exact you are, or are desirous to be,
in whatever you publish. With best wishes, I remain,
Sincerely yours,
M. Costa.
Of Sir Michael Costa it is certainly not too much
to say that he was in his time the greatest choral
conductor that England possessed. He was a born
* ^ leader of men, ' ' and if I had not formed this im-
pression on my early visits to Exeter Hall, when
he was directing the performances of the old Sa-
cred Harmonic Society, I should assuredly have
done so at my first Handel Festival in 1874, when
he took command of the army of four thousand
singers and instrumentalists who obeyed his ample
beat with such marvelous rhythmic swing and pre-
cision. From the institution of the festival in
1857, Costa alone had trained and directed this
army ; and so universal was the idea that he alone
was capable of keeping it under control, that when
the announcement of his serious illness came, just
before the festival of 1883, there was an expression
of dismay on all sides. The musician who filled the
breach happily proved to be in the end as good as
his predecessor. Indeed, August Manns, the es-
teemed and talented conductor of the Crystal
Palace Concerts, did much to improve the quality
of his vast choir and to raise its level of efficiency
and intelligence. Still, he would be the first to
admit that the honor and glory of the most striking
executive achievement known to music stands prin-
55
Thirty Years of
cipallj, if not exclusively, to the credit of Michael
Costa, the man who created the machine and left
it in perfect working order.
August Manns— still an active veteran, though
now in his seventy-ninth year— has the qualities
of a i3urely orchestral conductor in a far higher
degree than they were ever possessed by Costa.
His work at the Crystal Palace from 1855 to 1900,
alike in its educational aspect and its conspicuously
beneficial encouragement of native art, will endure,
a lasting monument of industry, catholicity of
taste, and consistent loftiness of purpose. At Syd-
enham it was that Arthur Sullivan was first prof-
fered a helping hand by the performance of his
^^ Tempest'' music on his return from Leipsic
(April, 1862). Thither did Sir George Grove—
sometime secretary of the Crystal Palace Com-
pany and writer of the luminous analytical notes
that so materially enhanced the enjoyment of the
famous Saturday Concerts— convey the precious
Schubert manuscripts which he had rescued from
dust and oblivion in Vienna. There, under the aegis
of August Manns, was solved for the first time in
England the problem of cheap ^^ classical" orches-
tral concerts that should attract the masses and
initiate them into the delight of listening to good
music. There I heard my first symphony (it was
Beethoven's ^'Pastoral"); and there, Saturday
after Saturday, I heard the most celebrated solo-
ists that visited our British shores— from Rubin-
stein and Clara Schumann to Paderewski, from
56
Musical Life in London
Joachim to Sarasate, from Piatti to Hausmann
and Hugo Becker. To attend these concerts regu-
larly was a musical education in itself.
In central London, during the ^ ^ seventies, ' ' the
best medium for hearing good orchestral music
was the Promenade Concerts at Covent Garden.
These were held in August and September, under
the management of Messrs. A. and S. Gatti. My
old friend Signor Luigi Arditi was the conductor
for the first few seasons, and he was succeeded in
turn by Sir Arthur Sullivan and Mr. F. H. Co wen ;
while later on came a popular Welsh bandmaster,
Mr. Gwyllym Crowe. Much that was interesting
and instructive the shilling habitue could hear at
these ^ ^ Promenades ' ' ; but for me the most notable
recollection associated with them is the occasion
when Arditi gave the first performance in England
of the ^'Trauermarsch" from ^ ' Gotterdammer-
ung." The new tubas had only just arrived, and
there was not much time for rehearsing. Never-
theless, it seemed to me that the wonderful excerpt
was fairly well played, though I was too breathless
with amazement and admiration to be able to form
a cool judgment. But I do know that the audience
hardly waited for the last note before it burst into
frantic applause, and insisted upon having the
march played a second time.
During the opera seasons of 1874-75, there ap-
peared at Drury Lane a young Polish singer, who
met with emphatic success in leading barytone parts
such as the King ('^Favorita''), Bon Giovanni, Be
S7
Musical Life in London
Nevers, Valentine, and Count Almaviva Che
Nozze")- He also created a secondary part in
Balfe's posthumous opera ^'11 Talismano," which
was produced in June, 1874, with Nilsson, Tietjens,
Campanini, and others in the cast. I distinctly
recollect him in two characters— Z)o^ Giovanni
and De Nevers, It seemed to me that he had a
beautiful voice, of almost tenor quality, and both
as singer and actor he displayed the highest
promise. He appeared then under the name of
* ' De Eeschi. ' ' Twelve years later he was to return
to London and take the town by storm under his
own name of Jean de Eeszke.
58
CHAPTER IV
Verdi at the Albert Hall— The Maestro and his old classmate—
The Manzoni " Requiem " — Wagner revisits London — The Fes-
tival of 1877: its true history— Wagner and Wilhelmj—The
Meister and Enghsh prejudice— His collapse at rehearsal —
Hans Richter— Wagner " in the chair."
IN May, 1876, I saw Verdi conduct his Manzoni
^^Eequiem'^ at the Royal Albert Hall. This
was generally supposed to be his third visit to Lon-
don, the previous occasions being when he came
over in 1847 for the production of the opera ^^I
Masnadieri, ' ' which he wrote expressly for Her
Majesty's Theatre; and again in 1862 (the Exhibi-
tion year), when his ^'Inno delle Nazioni" was per-
formed at the same theatre. But, according to his
intimate friend, Mr. Randegger, the maestro also
ran over from Paris one summer, without letting
any one into the secret, for the purpose of hear-
ing for himself what the world-famous Handel
Festival was like. Mr. Randegger has told me that
his surprise was indescribable when he came across
Verdi at the Crystal Palace with a score of ^ ^ Israel
in Egypt'' tucked under his arm. He insisted,
however, that his presence should be concealed;
and he seems to have returned to Paris as mysteri-
ously as he came.
59
Thirty Years of
At the period of the ^^ Requiem'' visit there hap-
pened to be residing in London an elderly Italian
musician named Deliguoro, upon whom fortune
had not smiled very kindly, and who frequently en-
joyed the hospitality of my parents' house. An
admirable contrapuntist, stuffed full of musical
learning, he had the technique of composition at
his fingers' ends; but of individual or fresh ideas
his brain was utterly devoid. Like most dis-
appointed geniuses, he was unable to perceive his
own lack of originality. Once he played me a
melody in mazurka rhythm— a commonplace
enough Neapolitan tune— which he fondly re-
garded as an inspiration ; and I shall never forget
the old gentleman's horror when, a day or two af-
terward, he caught me strumming his piece by ear
upon the piano. I had to swear by all his own par-
ticular saints that I would never even hum his tune
again. ^ ' Some one would be sure to steal it. ' ' He
was utterly oblivious to the fact that he had vir-
tually stolen it himself.
The announcement of Verdi's coming was a
great event for Deliguoro, inasmuch as the master
and he had been fellow-students together at Milan,
under Lavigna (1831-33). This was just after the
preposterous refusal of the authorities at the Milan
Conservatoire to admit Verdi as a pupil at that in-
stitution because they thought he did not display
sufficient promise of talent. Deliguoro 's delight at
the prospect of meeting his old friend knew no
bounds. He had not seen him for quite thirty
60
Musical Life in London
years. ^'Giuseppe and I were like brothers. We
ate, drank, and worked together the whole of the
time. His harmony exercises always had more mis-
takes than mine, and he could never master the art
of writing a really good fugue. I wonder whether
he has dared to put one into his ^ Requiem M We
shall see ; for I am going to write and ask him for
a ticket to hear it.'' In due course tickets arrived
for the rehearsal and the concert, and Deliguoro
showed them to me with the utmost pride.
Most of the distinguished musical folk in London
were present at the ^^ grand rehearsal"; and yet
the vast auditorium, capable of holding 10,000 per-
sons comfortably, looked comparatively deserted.
I sat with Deliguoro not far from the orchestra.
He was so excited that I had the utmost difficulty in
restraining him from climbing over the barrier and
taking Verdi in his arms there and then. Nor
were my own feelings altogether calm as I gazed
for the first time upon the man who had composed
''Jjsl Traviata,'' ^ ' Rigoletto, ' ' and ^'Aida." He
was then sixty-three years of age, and his closely
cut beard was fast turning gray ; but he was as ac-
tive and robust as a youth, his eyes were keen and
bright, and his clear, penetrating voice when he ad-
dressed the choir (in French or Italian, I forget
which) could be heard all over the hall.
At the end of the fugal chorus " Sanctus Domi-
nus," which my neighbor declared to be more
scholarly than anything he had anticipated, Verdi
came around to speak to his friends among
63
Thirty Years of
the select audience, and ere long I could see that
he was staring in an uncertain way at Deliguoro.
Then all of a sudden he appeared to make up his
mind, and took a ^'bee-line'' over the stall chairs
to the spot where we were standing. ^ ^ Tu sei Deli-
guoro, non e ver ? ' ' exclaimed the maestro. ^ ^ Si, si,
son Deliguoro,^' replied his old friend, his eyes
brimming over with tears.^ And then followed a
close embrace that I thought would never end. It
would be hard to say which of the two former class-
mates evinced the fuller measure of joy.
But in the midst of the excitement I was not for-
gotten. Deliguoro presented me to Verdi as '^the
son of the best friends he had in London, and a
youthful but modest musical critic. ' ' I added that
I had been indebted to Signer Deliguoro for much
good teaching and advice in the study of the art.
*^And you could not do better,'' said Verdi in
French, as he shook me by the hand. ^^ Deliguoro
is not only a colossus of counterpoint, but he has
a great heart (c'est un grand coeur), and I feel per-
sonally grateful to any one who is kind to him."
Nor did the great man, who was the soul of gener-
osity, forget his own duty in the matter ; for, prior
to leaving London, he sent a substantial money gift
to the less fortunate friend of his youth, who was
destined to survive only a year or two longer.
Surely none who heard that magnificent perform-
ance of * the Manzoni ^'Requiem" can have ever
1 ** You are Deliguoro, are you not? " *' Yes, yes,
T ftm Dflioruoro."
I am Deliguoro.'
64.
Musical Life in London
forgotten the combined effect of the beautiful mu-
sic, the superb singing of the Albert Hall choir
(trained by Barnby), the wonderful voices of the
soloists, and, pervading all, the subtle magnetic in-
fluence induced by the presence and personal guid-
ance of the composer. The solo artists included
three members of the original quartet, namely:
Mme. Stolz, Mme. Waldmann, and Signor Masini.
All possessed noble organs ; and the famous tenor,
who has never been heard in opera in England, was
then quite at his best. But the undoubted gem of
the whole performance was the * * Agnus Dei, ' ' with
its octave unison phrases for the two women's
voices, sung by Stolz and Waldmann with a deli-
cacy and charm of simply ethereal loveliness. Nor
shall I forget the pains taken by Verdi at rehearsal
to obtain from his chorus and orchestra of eight
hundred a pianissimo in fitting proportion to the
exquisite tone of these singers.
A YEAR later Richard Wagner came to London to
take part in the series of Wagner Festival Con-
certs at the Eoyal Albert Hall, which had been ar-
ranged with a view to paying off the debt on the
new theatre at Bayreuth.^ The events of this visit
^ It will be remembered that there was a deficit of something
like 140,000 marks ($35,000) after the opening season of 1876,
when *'Der Eing des Nibelungen'^ was performed for the first
time in its entirety. London, however, did little toward liqui-
dating this debt. It was ultimately paid off with the gross re-
ceipts of some cycles of **The Eing" at Munich, for which the
performers all gave their services gratuitously.
65
Thirty Years of
are briefly narrated in *^ Grove *' by Mr. Edward
Dannreuther, at whose house in Bayswater Wag-
ner stayed— from April 30 to June 4. Evidently,
however, Mr. Dannreuther had no desire to dwell
in detail upon the incidents of this ^'London
episode." He was even a trifle ashamed that his
name should have been associated with it in Glase-
napp's biography of Wagner *^and elsewhere";
and he expressly states ^^that he had nothing what-
ever to do with the planning of the ^festival,' nor
with the business arrangements." All he did was
to ^ ' attend to the completion of the orchestra with
regard to the ^ extra' wind-instruments, and, at
Wagner's request, to conduct the preliminary re-
hearsals. ' '
No doubt such was the case. But thus to dis-
claim all connection with the enterprise has always
sounded to me rather like a slur upon the good in-
tentions of those whose devotion to Wagner 's cause
had led to the inception and organization of this
affair. That Wagner himself was annoyed at cer-
tain things which occurred, and that he went away
on the whole extremely disappointed, may be safely
assumed, if only from what was subsequently said
by his native champions of the press in Bavaria
*'and elsewhere." A great many of those state-
ments, however, were either untrue or grossly ex-
aggerated. The whole truth has never been related,
and as I happened to have been *' behind the
scenes," more or less, throughout the Wagner
Festival of 1877, it may be interesting to my
66
Musical Life in L/ondon
readers if I now endeavor, as concisely as possible,
to tell the story.
To make matters clear, I must premise that the
adversaries and supporters of Wagnerian art in
London were then ranged in three distinct camps.
There were (1) those who refused to accept his
music under any conditions; (2) those who would
accept all he had written down to ^ ' Tannhauser ' '
and ''Lohengrin'^; and (3) those who worshiped
both at the temple and from afar, accepting and
rejoicing in everything. The first of these sections
was gradually dying out, or was being absorbed by
the second, as the beauty of the operas heard in
London within the previous two years slowly but
surely forced its way into the heart and under-
standing of the people. The prejudice against the
later works still prevailed, however, and to such an
extent that no London impresario yet dreamed of
mounting ^ ^ Tristan, ' ^ or ^ ' Die Walkiire, ' ' or ^ ' Die
Meistersinger,'' despite the success those works
were then meeting with in many Continental cities.
All one could say was that musicians were begin-
ning to display an interest in the preludes and ex-
cerpts occasionally performed in the concert-room ;
while, as a matter of course, the London Wagner
Society was constantly growing in numbers and
strength, and working a steady ** propaganda ' ' on
behalf of the cause.
Among the most popular artists appearing in
England at that time was the eminent violinist, Au-
gust Wilhelmj, who was one of Wagner's most ar-
67
Thirty Years of
dent disciples and tlie leader of the first Bayrenth
orchestra. He was pretty accurately acquainted
with the state of affairs, and he it was who origi-
nally conceived the idea of inviting Wagner to con-
duct a series of concerts upon a festival scale in the
British capital. He broached the subject during
the autumn of 1876, and at first, I believe, Wagner
was utterly unwilling to consider the proposition.
Twice already had the Meister been in England—
once in the summer of 1839,^ and again in 1855,
when for a single season he took the baton laid
down by Costa as conductor of the Philharaionic
Society. His recollections of this second visit can-
not have been wholly pleasant; but Wilhelmj
showed him how completely the aspect of things
had changed, and argued that there was now an
immense curiosity to see him as well as hear more
of his music. Besides, six concerts at the Albert
Hall would assuredly result in a net profit of as
many thousand pounds. The temptation was too
strong to be resisted; Wagner ultimately decided
to go.
Wilhelmj, delighted at having secured the mas-
ter's promise, at once set about finding a respon-
* He then stayed only eight days, and lodged, together with
his wife, at a boarding-house (since pulled down) in Compton
Street, Soho. This short visit Wagner made en route for Paris,
but he also stopped at Boulogne, where he made the acquaintance
of Meyerbeer and obtained from him the introductions which
gave rise to Heine's oft-quoted remark: ''Do you know what
makes me suspicious of this young man? It is that Meyerbeer
recommends him. ' '
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sible manager who would undertake the arrange-
ments and advance the necessary capital for the
preliminary outlay. Herein lay the initial mistake.
Instead of employing some well-known concert
agent, the violinist placed the whole business in
the hands of a very respectable but inexperienced
firm, whose place of business was at the Hengler
Circus building in Argyll Street. I will not deny
that this firm worked hard and did their best. But
unfortunately both they and Herr Wilhelmj were
far too lavish in their expenditure. They engaged
Materna and the pick of the Bayreuth artists at big
prices. The orchestra, with Wilhelmj as leader,
was nearly two hundred strong. The disburse-
ments for advertising, printing, programmes, etc.,
were enormous, and everything was done in the
costliest fashion. All this might have been justified
had the attendance at the festival reached the ex-
pected level. But unluckily the prices charged for
seats were prohibitive, and the public refused to
come in anything like the necessary numbers.
On the night after Wagner's arrival in London
a dinner was given in his honor by his managers
at their show-rooms in Argyll Street. Only recog-
nized friends of the *^ cause'' were invited, and I
had the honor of being among the number. Toasts
were given and responded to, and Wagner made
one of the characteristic little speeches for which he
was famous. Late in the evening I was introduced
to him. He asked me to sit beside him a few min-
utes, and began hj demanding in German my age.
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*^ Nearly twenty- one, ' ^ I replied.
**Why, you were not born when I was last here.
I suppose you know, though, that your critics did
not display any great affection for me then. Do
you think they are better inclined toward me now ? ' '
I answered that I fancied he would perceive an
improved attitude all round.
*^I hope so," said Wagner. **I know that some
of my best and truest friends live in London, and,
sooner or later, their influence must begin to tell."
I ventured to remark that I thought his music in
the long run would suffice to accomplish the desired
conversion. He turned his keen glance toward me
for a moment, and paused, as though wishing to
read me through. The inspection appeared to be
satisfactory ; for a smile suffused his features as he
replied :
^^Yes; but here they still call it * music of the
future,' and in this land of oratorio who knows
how long they will take to get rid of their preju-
dices, unless the agitators keep stirring them up?
Well, we shall see what happens next week."
Then he turned to speak to Wilhelmj, and the
brief chat was at an end. I sat still, however, a
minute or two longer, and watched with intense
interest the play of facial expression, the eloquent
curves of the mouth, the humorous light in the
eyes, the quiet, subtle laugh, while he addressed in
turn the various friends gathered around him.
That evening Wagner was thoroughly happy. He
felt himself in a congenial atmosphere, content with
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the present, and hopeful— nay, sanguine— of the
morrow. I was glad to have seen him in that beatific
mood, and not a little proud to have spoken with
him. What a pity that he was not to bid a final
farewell to England in an equally satisfied frame
of mind!
The final rehearsal for the opening concert of
the festival took place at the Albert Hall on May
5. Wagner had himself chosen the programmes.
He was to conduct each first part, consisting of
selections from all his operas, from ^'Rienzi'^ to
'^Tristan"; while Hans Richter, who now made
his first appearance in England, was to direct the
excerpts from ^'Der Ring des Nibelungen" that
formed each second part. Most of the preliminary
work had been done under Mr. Dannreuther, in
whom Wagner reposed great confidence. All that
remained was to give the finishing touches and for
the composer-conductor to accustom himself to the
vast auditorium and the huge ere scent- shaped
phalanx of orchestral players spread before him.
From the outset, as it seemed to me, he failed to
place himself en rapport with either. The abnor-
mal conditions appeared completely to upset him.
In a word, he succumbed there and then to a severe
attack of Albert Hall stage fright— an illness fa-
miliar to nearly every artist on stepping for the
first time upon the platform of that gigantic amphi-
theatre.^ However, after a glance of astonishment
^ Another bad sufferer that day was Frau Materna. I was
speaking to her in the artists' room just before she went on to
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round the empty hall, and a few whispered words
to Wilhelmj, and yet a few more to Hans Richter
(who was posted beside the conductor's desk), the
great man raised his baton and gave the signal for
the start. The inaugural piece was the ^'Kaiser-
marsch," and it was well chosen for the purpose.
Its pompous and sonorous strains, proceeding with
stately rhythmical movement throughout, were
perfectly calculated to show off the imposing vol-
ume of the big orchestra in such a building as that.
It gave no trouble, and the effect was superb. But,
unluckily, instead of imbuing Wagner with a little
confidence, this preludial essay left him more
palpably nervous than before.
The second piece on the list was the overture to
the ^'Fliegende Hollander.'' Here, I confess, I
looked for something exceptional. I had always un-
derstood that Wagner was a fine conductor, at least
of works with which he was in true sympathy, and
I expected his reading of the '^ Dutchman" over-
ture to be in the nature of a revelation. Imagine,
then, my disappointment and sorrow when it re-
sulted in a complete breakdown! Twice— nay,
thrice— did he make a fresh start, while Mr. Dann-
reuther and Mr. Deichmann (the faithful leader of
the second violins) took it by turns to translate his
rehearse, and she was positively trembling with excitement and
fear ''lest she should be unable to make herself heard in such a
huge place. ' ' I begged her to sing quite in her usual manner,
and, above all things, not to ''force" her voice. She afterward
thanked me and said that she had been simply amazed at the
ease with which she could sing in the hall.
74
From a pbotograpli by Sarony, N. Y.
MATERNA
Musical Life in London
complaints and instructions to the orchestra. But
it was of no avail. He utterly failed either to in-
dicate or to obtain what he wanted, and at last, in
sheer desj^air, he threw down his stick and re-
quested Richter to do the work for him. Well do
I remember the sharp round of applause with which
the band greeted the Viennese conductor as he
mounted the rostrum. It was thoughtless— unkind,
if you will ; for it must have smote with unpleasant
sound upon the ears of the sensitive composer.
But the overture went without a hitch. It was
played as I had never heard it played before.
After this Wagner decided that he would con-
duct only one or two pieces at each concert, leaving
all the rest to Eichter. But would the public be
satisfied! They were paying to see Wagner as
well as to hear his music. The matter was dis-
cussed, and it was suggested, as a compromise, that
when he was not conducting he should sit upon the
platform in an arm-chair facing the audience. This
course was actually adopted. At each of the six
concerts comprising the festival scheme, after he
had conducted the opening piece and acknowledged
a magnificent reception, he sat down in his arm-
chair and gazed at the assemblage before him with
a sphinx-like expression of countenance that I shall
never forget. He must have felt as though he were
being exhibited, like some strange, interesting ani-
mal, for all the world to stare at ; and his reflections
doubtless were as unenviable as his situation.
Obviously it would have been unfair to estimate
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Wagner's ability as a conductor by what be did at
these concerts. Yet I fear some of his critics were
not wholly considerate in that respect, for the com-
ments uttered in several quarters showed plainly
that no allowances had been made. I quite agree
with Mr. Dannreuther, therefore, when he says that
*'at the Albert Hall, Wagner did not do himself
justice. His strength was already on the wane.
The rehearsals fatigued him, and he was frequently
faint in the evening. His memory played him
tricks, and his beat was nervous. ' '
To make matters worse, it was quickly perceived
that the festival was going to prove a financial
failure. Nothing could have been more discour-
aging than the sight of numerous unoccupied boxes
and stalls, and in the cheaper parts a ^ ^ beggarly ar-
ray of empty benches." It was determined, just
in time, that a couple of extra concerts should be
given at reduced prices, the artists and executants
accepting half-salary, while all the ^^ plums'' of
the festival were crowded into the two programmes.
This move retrieved the fortunes of the venture.
A heavy loss was converted into a profit of £700,
which sum was duly handed over to Wagner for his
Bayreuth fund. But it was a miserable result in
comparison with the expected thousands, and, not-
withstanding the polite letters of thanks which he
afterward wrote to his English friends, I have
more than a vague suspicion that he always looked
back upon this eventful visit with mingled feelings
of annoyance and regret.
78
CHAPTER V
Cambridge degrees for Brahms and Joachim — Performance of
the " Exercises "— " Carmen " produced at Her Majesty's— De-
but of Minnie Hauk — A versatile and accomphshed prima donna
— Car OTewsdsits Seville— Anton Rubinstein— Pablo Sarasate —
Etelka Gerster— Gayarre— Lassalle— Edouard de Reszke—
A rare galaxy of talent— The Richter Concerts.
IN course of the almost daily companionsliip
which, between 1874 and 1880, it was my privi-
lege to enjoy with Signor Garcia, we used, now and
then, to attend together some important musical
function. Two of these occasions dwell in my
memory with peculiar vividness.
Early in 1877, the University of Cambridge de-
cided to confer the degree of ^^Mus. Doc,"
honoris causa, upon two of the world's greatest
musicians, Johannes Brahms and Joseph Joachim.
The distinguished violinist readily accepted this
invitation, together with the customary conditions
therein involved,— namely, to attend in person to
receive the degree, and to furnish some new com-
position as an ^^ exercise'' to be performed at the
university on the day of the ceremony. To Brahms
the intended compliment involved a good deal more.
It meant a long journey to a country that he had
never visited, and, as he afterward bluntly ad-
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mitted, had never had the smallest desire to visit.
He looked upon England as probably the least
musical of European countries, and set no store
whatever upon honorary degrees, even when be-
stowed by such an ancient university as Cam-
bridge.^ He therefore declined the invitation to
be present, but expressed his willingness to receive
the degree if it could be conferred in absentia; and
he offered as his doctor's ^'exercise'' the new
symphony in C minor. No. 1, which had been per-
formed for the first time in the previous November
at Karlsruhe. After some consideration the offer
was accepted, and March 8, 1877, was the day fixed
for the ceremony to take place at Cambridge.
The especial significance of this event, apart
from its immediate interest, lies in the important
bearing that it had upon the wider understanding
and appreciation of Brahms 's music in Great
Britain. Down to this time Johannes Brahms had
been known to the general mass of amateurs as a
writer of chamber music ; and by all but the culti-
vated few his compositions were voted abstruse
and dull, if undeniably clever. Indeed, even his
own countrymen for the most part had failed as
yet to grasp the true tenor and might of his genius.
Writing in that same year, one of his biographers,
Herr A. Maczewski, said of Brahms that the ^'in-
dividual character of his ideas and the intellectual
^ Brahlns was nevertheless genuinely pleased when, ten years
later, the Emperor William appointed him a Knight of the
Order ''pour le merite" for Arts and Sciences.
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qualities of his nature certainly stand in the way
of his overcoming opposition and gaining the
sympathies of the large mass of the musical public.
. . . With him beauty seems to hold a place sub-
ordinate to expression, and a certain harshness is
in consequence occasionally met with in his har-
mony which must hinder the popularity of his
works" (Grove's Dictionary, Vol. I, p. 270).
If the ^'Deutsches Requiem" opened the eyes of
German music-lovers, it was assuredly the sym-
phony in C minor that awakened English ears to
a just and worthy estimate of the gifts of the
Hamburg composer. The impression created at
Cambridge was to spread within a few years over
the entire kingdom. ^'What a masterpiece for a
first symphony!" exclaimed Garcia, as we listened
to the rehearsal by the Cambridge University Mu-
sical Society under Villiers Stanford. What a
masterpiece indeed! And what patience for such
a musician to have waited before writing it until
he was forty-three years old and could inscribe
' ' Op. 68 ' ' upon the score of his symphony No. 1 !
Of course we all smiled when the opening theme
of the finale suggested that unmistakable resem-
blance to the corresponding subject in the last
movement of Beethoven 's ^ ' Ninth, ' ' which Brahms
always protested he could not perceive. But the
trifling similarity mattered naught unless to lend
the new work a greater charm; for Brahms was
nothing if not original, and the soul of honesty
itself. His beautiful ' ' Schicksalslied " was also
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performed at this concert, and it helped to confirm
the deep impression created by the symphony.
Alas, that he should not have been there himself !
But the personal tribute paid that day to his be-
loved friend, Joseph Joachim, was in every way
remarkable. Well-known musicians came from dis-
tant parts of the country to be present. It was to
do honor to the illustrious violinist whom he had
known long years that my own venerable master
made the journey from the metropolis— to witness
the bestowal upon him of a distinction similar to
that which had already been conferred upon him-
self as the inventor of the laryngoscope. And
never has the Public Orator of Cambridge Univer-
sity employed terms more felicitous or more eulo-
gistic than he contrived to put into his Latin speech
in this instance. Dr. Joachim's ^^ exercise'' con-
sisted of his fine overture in memory of the cele-
brated poet Heinrich von Kleist, which was played
under his own direction. He also gave a superb
performance of the Beethoven violin concerto, of
which work he is, by common consent, admitted to
be the greatest of all interpreters.
In the summer of the following year— to be pre-
cise, June 22, 1878— Signor Garcia accompanied
me to the first performance in England of Bizet's
'^Carmen." It was not an easy thing at that time
to persuade him to go to the Opera. The singing
that he heard did not, as a rule, please him, and
he was content to dwell undisturbed with the mem-
ories of a glorious past. An opera on a Spanish
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subject, however, was something of an attraction,
especially if it touched upon bull-fighting, which
would appear to stir the blood of every Spaniard
at any and every period of life. Moreover, I fancy
he was acquainted with Prosper Merimee's story,
and had heard some accounts of Bizet's music. I
reminded him that *' Carmen '^ had been next door
to a failure at the Opera-Comique three years pre-
vious. ^'I know,'' he replied, ^^and the poor com-
poser died of a broken heart three months later.
That is the way France generally treats rising
talent, including her own. I place little value upon
the opinion of Paris regarding new works."
The only bit of ^^ Carmen" then known in Lon-
don was the ''Habanera," which had been sung
for a year or so with notable success by that gifted
artist, Mme. Trebelli. As a matter of fact, though,
the music of this air had been in her possession for
a long time ; hence I am inclined to believe either
that it is a genuine Spanish tune which Bizet
adapted and arranged, or else that it was written
by him some time before the opera. The ' ' Chanson
du Toreador," which eventually helped so much
to render ' ' Carmen ' ' popular in every country, had
not yet been heard in England. Indeed, Bizet
was practically an unknown composer, while the
fact of his being a Frenchman was, in the opinion
of a Spaniard, distinctly against him as an indica-
tion of ability to write or imitate Spanish music.^
^The general feeling on this subject in Spain amounts almost
to a national prejudice. To this day <' Carmen," although
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1 recollect that Signor Garcia was in a very critical
mood, albeit prepared, with his customary impar-
tiality, to allow the full meed of praise where praise
was due.
The opera was well cast and well staged. Mr.
Mapleson had seen it at the Brussels Monnaie dur-
ing the preceding winter, and it was on the strength
of the success won there, alike by the work and by
the exponent of the title-role, that he had deter-
mined to transfer both to the boards of Her Maj-
esty's. The Carmen in question was no other than
Miss Minnie Hauk, the young American prima
donna who had sung at Covent Garden one autumn
season when quite a girl, but had not been heard
again in London until the present year, when she
made her rentree as Violetta in ''La Traviata.^'
Her Carmen was already famous. It was consid-
ered as good dramatically as that of Mme. Galli-
Marie,^ and in a vocal sense far superior. Garcia
was simply delighted with the artistic finish, the vi-
vacity and charm, of her performance. He thought
she had caught with marvelous instinct and truth
the peculiarities of the Spanish type, the coquettish
manners and the defiant devilry of the wayward
greatly liked and frequently performed, is less intensely popu-
lar in Spain than in other countries — certainly less so than the
work of purely Spanish composers such as Albeniz and Breton.
At the same time, it takes a born Spaniard to recognize the ex-
tremely delicate nuances that distinguish the real native article
from the clever foreign imitation.
^ This artist created the character in Paris. She also appeared
in it at Her Majesty's, with a French company, during the au-
tumn of 1886.
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gipsy. He admired immensely the individuality
of an assumption which, if it was subsequently fol-
lowed upon more or less identical lines by many
excellent artists, has been equaled only by three— I
mean Pauline Lucca, Emma Calve, and Zelie de
Lussan.
Nor since have I heard a sweeter, gentler, or more
persuasive Michaela than Alwina Valleria (nee
Miss Lohmann, of Baltimore), another American
soprano who was just beginning to win her way
into the affections of the English public. The
Escamillo— and an altogether ideal one— was that
remarkably fine barytone, Del Puente, who in after
years settled down in New York as a singer and
teacher ; while Campanini sang and acted with su-
perb dramatic power as Don Jose. It was a strong
cast, therefore, and Sir Michael Costa conducted
the opera with exemplary care, even if he failed to
bring into full relief the manifold beauties and ex-
quisitely delicate touches of Bizet's score. But
Signor Garcia was simply enthusiastic, and he la-
bored as effectively as any individual in the whole
theatre to bring about the triumphant reception
that greeted ^'Carmen'' that night. The subject
and its treatment alike appealed to him ; he thought
the story intensely dramatic; the degree of real
Spanish color in the music quite astonished him.
He had not imagined that any Spanish opera after
^^Don Giovanni" and ^'H Barbiere" could please
him so much.
I may be excused for thus dwelling at length
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upon the premiere of ^'Carmen'' in England, be-
cause from that moment dates the real popularity
of the opera in Europe— a popularity, by the way,
that has been exceeded by one opera only, Gounod 's
'^ Faust.'' It was further noteworthy in that it
first brought into prominence the two American-
born singers— Minnie Hauk and Alwina Valleria—
who were to be most closely identified with the
rapid upward progress of the Carl Rosa opera en-
terprise from 1880 to 1886.
I made the acquaintance of Minnie Hauk in Lon-
don during the season just referred to. A year or
so later she married a well-known traveler and
writer. Baron Ernst von Hesse- Wartegg. It was
in 1880 that she joined the Carl Rosa troupe, and
appeared at Her Majesty's in ^ ^ Lohengrin, "
^^Aida," and ^^Mignon" when these operas were
given for the first time in English; also she made
an admirable Katharine in Goetz 's ^ ^ Taming of the
Shrew." In Wagner's opera she was ably sup-
ported by Herr Anton Schott; in ^^Mignon," by
that admirable singer, Joseph Maas, the best Eng-
lish stage tenor since Sims Reeves. In fact, these
were all representations of the rarest excellence;
and they all threw into a strong light the singular
versatility of Minnie Hauk, who could bring out
the poetry of Elsa or the deep passion of Aida as
completely as she could the diablerie of Carmen or
the petulant tempers of Mignon and Katharine}
^ Mme. de Wartegg is at the present time living in retirement
with her husband at Triebsehen, near Lucerne. Her villa ad-
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Besides being versatile in her art (she could
boast a repertory of unusual dimensions), Minnie
Hauk was an accomplished musician, a facile lin-
guist, a kindly hostess, and the most interesting
of correspondents. More than one agreeable sum-
mer holiday did I spend with Mme. de Wartegg
and her mother and husband at their Biningen-
Schlossli near Basel, in Switzerland. For the weary
worker it was an ideal spot in which to repose and
recuperate; likewise for the busy prima donna to
study in peace and find inspiration for new parts.
She wrote me once from Biningen :
I am studying very diligently a new role— or, rather,
an old one that I have never yet essayed— that is, Frau
Fluth (Mistress Ford) in ''The Merry Wives of Wind-
sor." I have also to freshen up for my coming season
in Berlin my recollection of the ''Domino Noir," and
Kose Friquet in "Les Dragons de Villars," besides other
operas put aside for several years. How am I to do all
this if I cannot manage to stay at home for once in the
early summer? Since we have had the Schlossli I have
never been here in May or June, and it has been a de-
light; for I have never seen the meadows so green and
beautiful, or heard such wonderful warbling all day
long as from the birds in the park here. I am trying to
learn from them; and I feel more and more convinced
that Wagner, Bizet, and many other composers have been
inspired with their "motives" by listening to the birds.
joins the one at which Wagner resided from 1866 until 1872, and
where he completed ''Die Meistersinger " and wrote nearly the
whole of the latter half of the ' ' Nibelungenring. "
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In course of her numerous tours in different parts
of the world (including Japan, where she was
unluckily ''caught" in an earthquake and had a
most providential escape from destruction), Mme.
Minnie Hauk used to write me regular accounts of
her artistic doings and her varied experiences.
From these I have only space to quote the follow-
ing letter, which has a special interest on account
of its reference to the scene of her greatest operatic
triumph :
Seville, January 25, 1892.
My dear Mr. Klein :
What a world of antique novelty I have gone through
within the last four weeks ! I have lived, as it were, in
the atmosphere of the Scriptures, and have seen sights
most marvelous. We left Tangiers four days ago, and
I can hardly realize that I have seen all this antiquated
world peopled as of yore— walking, breathing— in fact,
living life as it was lived nearly two thousand years ago !
And now what a change— Seville! I am gratified to
find the cigarette girls just as gay and bright— with flash-
ing eyes and rose in hair — as I expected. Not as pretty,
perhaps ; but at every turn one can imagine a Carmen-
cita (and what a common name Carmen is here, to be
sure !) . The city is a dead one, so to speak ; but at night
it livens up, and at the theatres the castagnette-playing,
the dancing, and the singing have the true old Spanish
ring. There is something very fascinating about the life
here, and I only regret I cannot see it in the spring-tide.
To-morrow we leave for the Alhambra, stopping on the
way at Cordova to see the great Mosque.
I finished my American season of four months (with
Mr. Abbey) at Boston, and sang in all fifty-three times
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in three operas — ''Lohengrin," "Carmen," and ''Caval-
leria Rusticana." We had crowded houses all the time.
It was a most interesting season, but rather fatiguing.
I think I have deserved my holiday, and shall rest two
months before fulfilling my engagements at Nice, etc.
With united best regards.
Ever yours faithfully,
Minnie Hauk-De Wartegg.
In addition to the events already recorded, there
belong to the years 1877 and 1879 some experiences
which, for me at least, will ever be replete with
interest. In the earlier year I heard for the first
time Anton Rubinstein and Pablo Sarasate, and
witnessed the debuts of Etelka Grerster and Ga-
yarre. With the exception of a brief visit in 1876,
Rubinstein had not been in London for seven or
eight years. I now heard him at the Philharmonic,
at the Crystal Palace (where I saw him conduct—
with all the ^' extra" movements included— his
grandiose but interminable ^^ Ocean'' symphony),
and at some recitals at St. James's Hall. He was
then in his forty-eighth year, and had attained the
fullest measure of his extraordinary powers.
Universally acknowledged to be the greatest
pianist of his time, the public simply worshiped
Rubinstein as an artist and gathered in crowds
whenever he appeared. His technique bordered
upon the miraculous ; his interpretative gifts were
worthy of a musician who was himself no mean
creative genius ; his style, the reflex, as it were, of
his massive leonine aspect, was at once the most
Thirty Years of
noble and most original of any pianist I have ever
listened to. The fire and passion in his soul poured
out at his fingers ' ends ; and yet his touch could be
as gentle and caressing as a woman's. In private
life his chief amusement was a game of whist. He
loved the game and played it well— as I discovered
for myself one evening when I visited him at the
old Hotel Dieudonne, in St. James 's. Quite a num-
ber of friends dropped in after dinner, but Rubin-
stein simply ignored their presence until he had
finished his rubber. Then he went round and
warmly welcomed them. After a time he sat down
to the piano, and never left it till midnight, giving
us a treat that will never fade from my memory
as long as I live.^
An artist of entirely different calibre, yet barely
less serious in his aims and certainly not less re-
markable for the flawless perfection of his technical
gifts, Senor Sarasate had just turned thirty when
he made his first appearance before a London au-
dience. Three years later (October 13, 1877) his
rendering of Mendelssohn's violin concerto at the
Crystal Palace fairly took the town by storm, and
he repeated his triumph at the Philharmonic in the
following spring. After 1885 he became an almost
i i
^ Eubinstein visited London again in 1881, when his opera
The Demon" was produced at Covent Garden, and yet once
more (for the last time) in 1886, when he gave his famous series
of Histopieal Recitals at St. James 's Hall. As an operatic com-
poser he never won success in England, but his chamber music
and songs are among the best-known and most popular in the
modern repertory.
96
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Musical Life in London
annual visitor to England, and he also toured sev-
eral years with unvarying success in the United
States.
It was quite late in the season of 1877 when
Etelka Gerster made her debut at Her Majesty's
as Amhia in ''La Sonnambula. ' ' She was one of
Mr. Mapleson's surprises. Beyond a very high
register, no one expected anything extraordinary
from the newcomer. Imagine, therefore, the de-
light of habitues when they heard for the first time
a voice of exquisitely musical quality and bird-like
tone, trained to execute the most difficult fiorituri
and cadenzas with the utmost care, and capable of
running up comfortably to the giddy height of an
F in alt. Moreover, the Hungarian soprano proved
to be a good actress and a conscientious artist, so
that her success was never for a moment in doubt.
In the following season she accompanied Mr. Ma-
pleson to America, and there began a long series of
triumphs too familiar to need recalling.
Gayarre was not a great tenor in the highest
sense of the term. Nevertheless, he possessed vocal
and histrionic attributes of a very distinguished
kind, and chance so willed it that he was destined
to "bridge over'' to a large extent the interval
that separated the final retirement of Mario from
the advent (as a tenor) of Jean de Reszke. By
birth a Spaniard, and hailing from Pampeluna
(the town in which Sarasate was born), Giuliano
Gayarre had studied and won his early successes in
Italy. He was an exponent of the new quasi-nasal
99
Thirty Years of
school of tenor singers, which already had Ta-
magno for one of its leading protagonists. To
my ears his production, on the night he made his
debut at Covent Garden (April 7, 1877), sounded
strange and not wholly pleasant. Still, the voice
traveled well, and he sang the music of Gennaro
with so much tenderness, so much charm, allied to
genuine dramatic feeling and expression, that the
crowded house forthwith accorded him a splendid
reception.
I declined to join in the general chorus of '^An-
other Mario!'' It struck me as little less than
sacrilege to compare with the divine voice of that
tenor an organ which could occasionally descend,
or ascend, to the utterance of tones that quickly
earned the name of the ^'Gayarre bleat." My
criticism drew forth several rejoinders, among
them the following from the Covent Garden con-
ductor, Signor Vianesi;
Wait to hear Gayarre two or three times. You will
appreciate him as a true artist. If I can correct him of
too much dragging (the present Italian style), he will be
''Number One"!
In a measure, this prediction proved to be cor-
rect. Of the operatic tenors heard in London dur-
ing the succeeding ten years, Gayarre was easily
the most interesting. Campanini and Fancelli had
finer voices; while of the French school Nicolini
and Capoul were perhaps more attractive. But in
lOO
Musical Life in London
certain operas Gayarre stood, for the time being,
upon an eminence by himself. As Fernando in ^*La
Favorita" (his best part), as Jean de Leyden in
*^Le Prophete,'' as Enzo in Ponchielli's ^^Gio-
conda'' (his original creation), and as Gennaro in
*^Lucrezia Borgia,'^ he was for a long time posi-
tively without a rival. He was an admirable Lo-
hengrin, and was the first singer in this part to
vary the charm of the love music in the bridal duet
by the judicious employment of a particularly
lovely mezza voce. He was also excellent in
Glinka's opera ^'La Vie pour le Czar,'' which he
introduced to English audiences for the first time
at Covent Garden in 1887.
Eighteen hundred and seventy-nine was the busi-
est musical year that I ever experienced in London.
We had opera from January until July, and again
from October to December. Carl Rosa set the ball
rolling at Her Majesty's, producing ^^Rienzi" for
the first time in England, and ^ ^ Carmen, ' ' with the
piquant Selina Dolaro in the title-role, for the first
time in the vernacular. Early in April, Covent
Garden opened under the sole management of
Ernest Gye, whose father had died from the effects
of a gun accident in the preceding December. Here
the peerless Adelina Patti once more headed the
prime donne; Scalchi, still in her prime, was the
principal contralto ; Gayarre, Nicolini, and Capoul
were the leading tenors ; and to such barytones as
Graziani, Cotogni, and Maurel was now added that
superb singer Jean Lassalle, for whom was pro-
lOI
Thirty Years of
duced Massenet's picturesque but unequal opera,
''Le Roi de Lahore.''
When Mr. Mapleson started at Her Majesty's
toward the end of April it was with one of the
strongest companies that he had ever brought to-
gether. Christine Nilsson— now at the finest period
of her career— led off a group of sopranos that
included Minnie Hauk, Etelka Gerster, Clara
Louise Kellogg,^ Marie Roze, and, last but not least,
Marie Vanzandt, a youthful debutante whose de-
lightful singing as Zerlina and Amina took the
London world completely by surprise. Trebelli,
unapproachable as ever in her way, stood at the
head of the contraltos; Campanini and Fancelli
were the best tenors ; and among the barytones and
basses were Del Puente, Galassi, Rota, Behrens,
and Foli. Some of the artists here named also took
part in the autumn season which Mr. Mapleson
gave at the same opera-house in the Haymarket—
now, by the way, the site of Mr. Beerbohm Tree's
theatre and the Carlton Hotel.
Here let me refer, par parenthese, to the English
debut of Edouard de Reszke. That event properly
belongs to 1880, when he appeared for the first
time at Covent Garden as Indra in ^^Le Roi de
Lahore." He was then about twenty-six, and his
noble bass voice had already developed in full
^ This cTiarming American soprano passed an exceerlingly brief
portion of her operatic career in England. Her talents, however,
were very warmly appreciated, and in her favorite roles she com-
manded the heartiest admiration.
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Musical Life in London
splendor the richness of timbre and amplitude of
volume for which it is remarkable. He lacked ex-
perience, of course ; the art of later years was yet
to come. Still, the sonority and grandeur of his
tones were an unalloyed delight, notably in such
parts as Basilio, St. Bris, Count Rodolfo, and
Walter ('^William Tell"), and he instantly won
hearty favor. He returned regularly for the four
succeeding seasons.
In addition to the concerts of the old Philhar-
monic Society, there were also those of the new
Philharmonic, which in 1879, on the resignation
of Dr. Wylde, came under the exclusive conductor-
ship of Mr. Wilhelm Ganz, and survived under his
direction for several seasons longer. But in the
concert world by far the most important event of
1879 was the establishment of the famous Richter
Concerts. They were the outcome of the Wagner
Festival of two years before, and, as a matter of
fact, were announced for this preliminary season
as a series of three ^ ^ Orchestral Festival Concerts. ' '
In subsequent years, when it was palpable that
Richter had become a power in the land, the more
ponderous title was relinquished, and double the
number of concerts were given.
The credit for the idea of starting the new un-
dertaking was originally due to Herr Hermann
Franke, a capable violinist (pupil of Joachim), who
had been residing for some time in London, and
who occasionally gave chamber concerts with the
aid of Scharwenka, Robert Hausmann, and other
105
Musical Life in London
artists. Franke had been very useful to his friend
Wilhelmj in the organization of the Wagner
Festival, and it occurred to him that profit could be
reaped from the tremendous impression that Kich-
ter's conducting had created at the Albert Hall.
The result justified his expectation; two years
later, at St. James's Hall, Richter's feat of con-
ducting not only Wagnerian fragments but Bee-
thoven symphonies entirely from memory fur-
nished an absolute novelty and created quite a sen-
sation. Thenceforth, Hans Richter's popularity
in England was assured, and his concerts, given
once, and sometimes twice, every year, became a
regular feature in the economy of London musi-
cal life.
io6
CHAPTER VI
Musical critic of the " Sunday Times "—The Duke of Cambridge
and his journahstic sons— Queen Victoria's music-loving aunt
— F. Paolo Tosti— The Queen's "Master of the Musick "—Her
Majesty's musical library — A State Concert at Buckingham
Palace — German opera in London — Gounod conducts his
"Redemption."
I MOW pass to the period when I became critic
of the fine old London weekly known as the
^'Sunday Times." This welcome rise in my jour-
nalistic status came about by a stroke of pure luck.
Late in the summer of 1881 the newspaper changed
hands, and the new editor, anxious, no doubt, to
show himself a man of action, promptly discharged
every member of the literary staff. His procedure
almost savored of heroism (of the Quixotic sort),
for he was totally unsupplied with new men to
take the place of those whom he had so needlessly
dismissed. How, I should like to know, could he
have hoped to find a more trustworthy dramatic
critic than Joseph Knight,^ or a more brilliant
yet learned writer on musical subjects than the
late Desmond L. Ryan, then also critic of the
''Standard''?
^Critic for many years of the London "Globe'* and "Athe-
ngeum, ' ' and present editor of ' ' Notes and Queries. ' '
107
Thirty Years of
However, the vacancy existed, and when Sep-
tember arrived, and with it the date for the Nor-
wich Festival, the ^^ Sunday Times" had no ap-
pointed critic to represent it at the East Anglian
gathering. In this dilemma the over-hasty editor
wrote to my Norwich uncle, the late Philip Soman,
and asked him to recommend some one who could
provide an article upon the festival. I was duly
requested to essay the task. A few weeks later I
was installed as the regular musical critic of the
''Sunday Times,'' which post I held continuously
until I resigned it in November, 1901— a period of
over twenty years.
At first the responsibilities of my new position
weighed somewhat heavily upon me. I had already
won my spurs, it is true ; though only just twenty-
five, I felt that I possessed the necessary knowledge
and experience for my work. But it was no light
matter to follow a clever (and then still living)
writer like Desmond Ryan, who in turn had been
preceded by the present doyen of English musical
critics, Joseph Bennett (before his services were
wholly required by the ''Daily Telegraph"). Ere
long, however, I was to receive definite assurance
that the performance of my labors was command-
ing satisfaction.
It is not the public that decides in these cases.
The readers of a paper are usually the last persons
in the world that a British editor would consult
concerning the merits or deficiencies of any writer
upon his staff. As long as the critic writes
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Musical Life in London
decent English, avoids libel actions, and is not
guilty of exposing a lack of technical knowledge
of his subject, he has little to fear from his em-
ployer. Strong or weak, fearless or indifferent,
honest or venal, he will be permitted to go on pub-
lishing his '^copy'^ from one year's end to the
other, until some such upheaval occurs as that
which had landed me in my present position. The
artist, the teacher, the cultivated amateur, the in-
structed colleague— in a word, those who do not
care openly to find fault, even when they dare— are
alone capable of judging whether or not the critic
has done his work well. And they are precisely
the people whose opinion upon the question is
rarely, if ever, asked.
The ^ ' Sunday Times ' ' again changed hands, for
the second time in a twelvemonth; and, instead
of being dismissed, I was requested to continue
my duties with ^^undiminished energy and zeal.''
I was told that my work had won favorable notice
in ^^ exalted" quarters, and that if I cared to re-
linquish the anonymous first person plural in favor
of the singular, and sign articles with my own
initials, I was at liberty to do so. I gladly adopted
this course. Journalistic anonymity is advisable
in dealing with politics and the general run of
newspaper topics. But where art is concerned, I
prefer to conform to the old French principle that
the opinions of the paper should be put forth as
those of an individual.
It is no secret that the purchasers of the ' ' Sun-
III
Thirty Years of
day Times'' in this instance were the three sons
of the Duke of Cambridge— Captain (now Rear-
Admiral) FitzGeorge, Colonel Augustus Fitz-
George, and Colonel George FitzGeorge. They all
took a deep interest in the then varying fortunes
of the paper, and Colonel George FitzGeorge per-
sonally undertook the editorship, in addition to
the even more onerous duties of dramatic critic.^
Frequently the three brothers would come down
to the office on a Saturday evening and remain
until the paper was ready to go to press. The
Colonel had the true instincts of a journalist, and
would write a bright, chatty article every week.
The Duke of Cambridge himself, too, was evi-
dently interested. I met his Royal Highness more
than once at his son's house. Well do I recollect
a certain New Year's eve, and the zest with which
he joined in ^'Auld Lang Syne" after he had been
sitting by the piano for nearly an hour listening
to my songs. In his genuine love of music he fully
shares a characteristic that distinguishes the whole
of the royal family. Until a few years ago the
Duke was a regular attendant at the opera. He
preferred the stalls to the royal box, albeit, if the
Princess of Wales (Queen Alexandra now) were
* In this branch, however, the Colonel soon found the work too
heavy, and asked me to assist him, as far as I could do so without
interfering with my musical duties. These contributions I signed
with the iiom de guerre of ' ' Avant-scene, " and for nearly three
years (until the appointment of my friend Malcolm Salaman, a
son of the composer) I was quite as closely identified with
the theatrical as with the musical work of the paper.
I I 2
Musical Life in London
present, he would never fail to pay her Royal
Highness a visit and enjoy a chat between the acts.
One night, at a performance of ^'Don Giovanni,^*
I had the pleasure of sitting next the duke. His
remarks upon the artists were full of sensible
criticism. He found fault where censure was really
deserved, and expressed a firm conviction that the
* ' Mozart singers ^ ' of that day, with the exception
of Patti and one or two others, were not to be com-
pared to those whom he had heard in his boyhood.
At this time the venerable Duchess of Cambridge,
his Royal Highnesses mother, was still alive and
residing at St. James's Palace, where our beloved
Queen Victoria would visit her regularly on the
rare occasions of her coming to London. Music
was the soothing balm of the aged Duchess's de-
clining days; and it was furnished almost ex-
clusively by my friend, the well-known song- writer,
F. Paolo Tosti. Every afternoon, toward tea-time,
with the regularity of clockwork, Tosti would go
to St. James's Palace and entertain the Duchess
with that exquisite warbling^ of his own charming
songs, for which he was then enjoying such a re-
markable vogue. I had already known him, but his
intimacy with the FitzGeorges naturally tended to
strengthen the bonds of friendship between us. I
remember his telling me how sedulously the
^ I can find no better word to express the unique combination of
perfect diction, of true Italian warmth and color, with the pe-
culiarly poignant tones of the voix de compositeur^ that character-
ized Tosti 's singing twenty years ago.
113
Thirty Years of
musical columns of a certain paper were studied
in the royal palaces every Sunday ; and from some
words graciously uttered to me by Princess Chris-
tian many years afterward, I have reason to know
that Tosti^s statement was not mere flattery.
Among my early contributions to the ^'Sunday
Times ^' was an account of a State Concert at Buck-
ingham Palace. It excited considerable curiosity,
inasmuch as critics, I need scarcely say, are not ad-
mitted to these functions ; indeed, I believe that the
occasion I refer to was the last as well as the first
upon which a description of a State Concert has
ever been written and published by a musical jour-
nalist. It was generally surmised at the time that I
had obtained the privilege of entree through the in-
fluence of my editor. That was not so. I owed it
entirely to the kindness of the Queen's late *' Mas-
ter of the Musick,'' Sir William George Cusins,
who consented to arrange for my presence, on con-
dition that I would not reveal his share in the trans-
action so long as he remained a court official. And
he has now been dead some nine years.
Cusins never realized it, but he was distinctly
one of fortune's favorites. The fickle goddess
smiled upon him from the day he won the King's
Scholarship at the Eoyal Academy— I think he
actually won it twice, by the way. Throughout
his career he regarded himself as an underesti-
mated genius.^ And yet, as the pupil of Sterndale
* This was, perhaps, because he felt a certain amount of dis-
appointment in his aspirations as a composer. He wrote a good
114.
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FACSIMILE OF A STATE CONCERT PROGRAMME
Musical Life in London
Bennett and Sainton, he won success both as a
pianist and a violinist ; he was at an early age ap-
pointed organist to the Queen 's private chapel ; he
was for sixteen years (1867 to 1883) conductor of
the Philharmonic Society ; he was honored in vari-
ous ways by the leading foreign musical societies ;
and in 1892 he was added to the select list of
musical knights. The post of * ' Master of the Mu-
sick'^ to the sovereign, to which he was appointed
in 1870, carried with it many privileges, while its
duties included those of conductor of the Queen's
private band, as well as of director of the State
Concerts. One might have justly thought that Sir
William Cusins was the most contented musician
in the land. That he was not mattered little; his
dissatisfaction was carefully concealed from all
but his best friends, and a temper that could rage
at white heat was, as a rule, effectually concealed
beneath a calm, dignified exterior and the manners
of a refined gentleman.
One day he asked me whether I would care to
see the musical library of Queen Victoria at Buck-
ingham Palace. I accepted with the utmost
pleasure, and spent a couple of delightful hours
deal; his compositions comprising an oratorio, ' 'Gideon/' a
*'Te Deum, " a symphony, two overtures, concertos for piano
and violin, several chamber works, and songs; besides a "Eoyal
Wedding Serenata" written for the wedding of the Prince and
Princess of Wales in 1863, and a "Koyal Jubilee Cantata" writ-
ten for the jubilee of Queen Victoria in 1887. Yet, probably the
last thing that English amateurs would have thought of doing
was to regard Cusins as a composer.
117.
Thirty Years of
with him looking through the treasures of that in-
teresting collection. He showed me, among other
valuable manuscripts, one of the original scores of
the *^ Messiah," on which he had shortly before
published a remarkably clever brochure, throwing
considerable light upon the details of HandePs in-
strumentation. ' ^ I am now engaged, ' ^ he told me,
**in compiling a catalogue of this wonderful collec-
tion. Her Majesty has granted me permission, and
I hope in good time to be able to let the world know
what a mass of precious manuscripts and scores
and musical works of all kinds there are in the
Queen 's library. ' ' Whether or not that project was
carried out before his death I am unable to say. If
not, perhaps his successor. Sir Walter Parratt, will
undertake to complete it.
After our visit to the library, Cusins took me
through the handsome reception-rooms of the
palace. It was then that I conceived the idea of
asking permission to accompany him once to a
State Concert. At first he replied that it would be
impossible, but after a moment's reflection said,
''Well, I fancy I might manage it if you don't
mind coming as a member of the chorus." I an-
swered that I should be only too happy. *'Then
I will send you a ' command ' to attend rehearsal at
nine o'clock on the morning of the next concert^
and all you have to do is to be sure that at night
you wear a white waistcoat. I wear court dress,
and the band have their own uniform of black with
gold buttons; but the chorus are distinguished by
ii8
Musical Life in London
nothing more elaborate than a white waistcoat with
ordinary evening dress." So everything was ar-
ranged, and before we parted I readily gave the
requisite promise of secrecy.
Though magnificent to the eye, and a sight gor-
geous and dazzling beyond my powers of descrip-
tion, nevertheless I found that State Concert at
Buckingham Palace one of the slowest and most
dispiriting functions that it was ever my lot to wit-
ness. From my place in the orchestral gallery I
commanded a perfect view of the entire assem-
blage. The Queen was, of course, not present.^
Her Majesty was represented by the Prince of
Wales, who, with the Princess of Wales and the
other members of the royal family, occupied seats
—not in front, as formerly had been the custom,
but upon a high dais at the extreme end of the vast
ball-room. At the back of the royal group sat or
stood a semicircle of high officers of state and ladies
and gentlemen of the household. The general com-
pany were ranged upon either side of the room,
facing each other, in rows five or six deep ; and be-
tween them was a gangway or passage broad
enough to keep the royal view of the performers en-
tirely free from cbstruction.
The concert began at 11 p.m. with the singing
of the national anthem. At that moment, as all
present rose to their feet, the coup d'ceil was su-
^ Queen Victoria never attended either a State Concert or a
State Ball at Buckingham Palace after the death of the Prince
Consort in 1861.
I IQ
Thirty Years of
perb in the extreme. The women, in court dress
with nodding plumes and sparkling tiaras, their
corsages positively coruscating with jewels and
gems of every description ; the men, in their various
court, naval, and military uniforms, their breasts
covered with the ribands and stars of countless
orders; the beautiful tapestries and hangings, the
sumptuous decoration of walls and ceiling, and the
brilliantly lighted chandeliers— all combined to
present a profusion and wealth of color, a superb
effect of delicate grandeur, such as no court in Eu-
rope could surpass. But beyond that, what?— the
dullest sort of musical show that can be imagined.
True, the artists were some of the best available;
but the selection of pieces was necessarily of the
miscellaneous or ad captandum order, and fol-
lowed the preference at that time for any but
English music. Above all, by the rules of court
etiquette applause was strictly forbidden. Number
succeeded number without the least token of appre-
ciation; each, in turn, ending amid a silence that
could not have been more profound had the locale
been a church or the audience a gathering of the
deaf and dumb.
Applause being the ^^salt,'' not only of the ar-
tist's existence, but of any musical performance, it
naturally follows that its elimination from a State
Concejt leaves the whole thing tasteless and insipid
from the artist's point of view. Only at the close
of the programme did vitality and spontaneity
characterize the proceedings. For then the ' * royal-
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ties'' descended from the dais, and, with stately
tread and bows right and left, walked the entire
length of the apartment toward the expectant or-
chestra. Then the singers, who had already de-
scended from the platform, received from gracious
lips the words of praise and thanks that assured
them they had done well. It was, for them, by far
the sweetest morsel of the entertainment. The com-
pliments over, the royal personages retired, and
the company dispersed, some to the supper-room;
others to some ball or late reception elsewhere.
For my own part, I waited patiently and discreetly
in the background until I caught the eye of the
* ^ Master of the Musick. ' ' He beckoned me to him,
took me by the arm, and, without a word, led me
along a labyrinth of corridors and passages; I
thought it was to let me quietly out by a side door,
and was preparing to say * ^ Good-night, " when
suddenly, to my astonishment, I found myself in
a spacious and comfortable room in which, at a
large round table, just ready to begin supper, were
seated the principal artists who had taken part in
the concert! ''So much," thought I, ''for the
chance of keeping secret who brought me here!"
But Cusins was both sensible and discreet, and his
manner possessed that air of importance and au-
thority which would have carried conviction be-
fore a whole posse of court officials. "Ladies and
gentlemen," he said in his most impressive tones,
"permit me to beg that you will make room for
our friend Mr. Klein. I have been requested [it
123
Thirty Years of
might have been by the Queen herself] to see that
he does not leave the palace until he has enjoyed
a good supper in your company." And I did en-
joy it thoroughly. That convivial gathering was
for me by far the pleasantest feature of the State
Concert.
Eighteen hundred and eighty- two was London's
great Wagner year. Hitherto we had been slowly
paving the way only. Now, with almost startling
suddenness, the metropolis found itself the scene of
two weighty enterprises which were destined to
give an even stronger fillip to the spread of the
Bayreuth master's art than his own visit in 1877.
To be candid, the double dose, taken well-nigh
simultaneously, proved rather too heavy for the
receptive capacity of the general public. But the
German community again rallied in brave numbers
to this musical call from the Fatherland, and, alike
with money and plaudits, proffered substantial
support to the cause.
Early in the year a troupe had been formed by
Herr Angelo Neumann for the purpose of perform-
ing ^^Der Eing des Nibelungen" in the leading
cities of Germany, Austria, Holland, England, and
Italy. The months of May and June were chosen
for the London visit, and Her Majesty's Theatre
was engaged. In all, four cycles of the tetralogy
were given. Of these I attended two, and then for
the first time felt that I was beginning to obtain
an insight into the real scope and meaning of this
gigantic work. The casts included not a few of
I 24
Musical Life in London
the famous artists who had taken part in the initial
representation of the ''Ring'' at Bayreuth in
1876,— among them Niemann, linger, the Vogls,
Hill, Schlosser, and Lilli Lehmann (who sang
Woglinde, Helmivige, and the ''Bird" music);
with that admirable artist, Reicher-Kindermann, as
Brilnnhilde. The conductor was the lamented An-
ton Seidl, who then made his first appearance in
London. He at once won the high approval of con-
noisseurs by the skill which he displayed— with by
no means first-rate material— in bringing out with
clearness, refinement, and intellectuality the beau-
ties of Wagner's colossal score. It was through
no fault of Seidl 's that the representations were at
many points open to criticism ; nor, we may be
equally sure, was he responsible for the number of
extensive "cuts" which disfigured the last two
of the four music-dramas.
The unexpected announcement of "German
Opera at Drury Lane" during the same months
owed its origin, in the first place, to the extraor-
dinary success previously earned by the celebrated
Meiningen troupe at that house ; and, in the second,
to the renewed activity of Hermann Franke, who,
elated by the good fortune that had attended the
Richter concerts, had prevailed upon Herr Pollini
to arrange with Augustus Harris for a series of
performances at Drury Lane, by the entire troupe
of the Hamburg Opera House, and with the very
popular Viennese chef-d'orchestre, Hans Richter,
as principal conductor. It turned out, from every
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Thirty Years of
point of view, a remarkable achievement. The rare
excellence of these performances— doubly valuable
in that they presented under perfect conditions
difficult operas mostly new or unfamiliar to Eng-
lish audiences— has never been forgotten by any
who witnessed them. They created a new standard,
a new mental perspective, not only for the rising
generation of opera-goers, but for those critics
whose insular experiences had been confined exclu-
sively to the lyric art of the Italian and French
schools. Henceforward, we were to understand
what was signified by Wagnerian declamation and
diction superimposed upon a correct vocal method,
as distinguished from mere shouting and a persist-
ent sacrifice either of the word to the tone or of the
tone to the word.
These inestimable traditions were exemplified
with marvelous fidelity and force by the Hamburg
artists, who, be it noted, comprised at that time
several whose rare merit was subsequently to earn
for them world-wide reputations. Imagine the ad-
vantage of hearing ^ ' Tristan und Isolde ' ' and ' ^ Die
Meistersinger" for the first time with such a noble
singer and actress as Eosa Sucher as Isolde and
Eva; with such a glorious Tristan and Walther as
Winkelmann; with the famous Marianne Brandt
as Brangaene; with that fine barytone, Gura, as
Konig Marks and Hans Sachs! Those artists were
then in* their prime, and sang their music as few
German singers have sung it since— as, indeed, it
could have been sung only by artists trained in the
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purest of vocal schools. We also had splendid
revivals of Beethoven's ^'Fidelio," with the de-
lightful Therese Malten as Leonora; of Weber's
^'Der Freischiitz" and "Euryanthe"; and, natur-
ally, of the ' ' Fliegende Hollander, " " Tannhauser, ' '
and ^^ Lohengrin." How these operas were con-
ducted by Hans Eichter I need hardly say. Enough
that the ensemble was superb and the mise en scene,
generally speaking, beyond reproach. The esthetic
effect of the entire season was in the highest de-
gree beneficial. It also proved to be entirely free
from financial loss, a fact which no doubt induced
the similar undertaking at Covent Garden two
years later, when Richter was again conductor.
But the success in that instance was not nearly so
marked. The time when German opera should take
abiding root in the affections of the London public
was yet to come.
In the autumn of 1882 Gounod came to England
to conduct the first performance of his fine sacred
work, ' ' The Redemption. ' ' He was no stranger '
to London. One of the refugees of 1870, he had
made a stay there of considerable duration, and
among other pieces brought out his cantata ^^ Gal-
lia,'' which he conducted at the opening of the
Royal Albert Hall in 1871. Even previous to
this, however, he had sketched his design for the
work which he labeled ^^Opus vitae meae," and
there is ample evidence that he spent, from first
to last, upward of a dozen years upon the score
of *^The Redemption." Having arranged with
I2g
Thirty Years of
Messrs. Novello & Co. for its publication (at tFe
highest price ever paid at that time for an ora-
torio), Gounod arrived late in September to super-
intend the final rehearsals for its production at
the Birmingham Festival. This was the last
of the Midland gatherings over which Sir Michael
Costa presided, and I owed to him the honor
of a personal introduction to the composer of
^' Faust/' who was then sixty-four years of
age.
Gounod was one of the most fascinating men I
have ever spoken with. His manner had a charm
that was irresistible, and his kindly eyes, soft and
melting as a woman 's, would light up with a smile,
now tender, now humorous, that fixed itself inef-
faceably upon the memory. He could speak Eng-
lish fairly well, but preferred his own language, in
which he was a brilliant conversationalist ; and he
could use to advantage a fund of keen, ready wit.
He was influenced at that time by a recrudescence
of that religious mysticism which had so strongly
characterized his youthful career; but his tone,
though earnest and thoughtful when he was dwell-
ing upon his art, could brighten up with the light-
ness and gaiety of a true Parisian. He was rather
upset, on the morning of the London band rehearsal
at St. George's Hall, by the numerous mistakes in
the parts, which led to frequent stoppages. The
trouble reached a climax in the ^^ March to Cal-
vary," where, after about the ninth or tenth stop,
Gounod turned to Costa and remarked :
130
Musical Life in London
^ ' Seulement ici puis-je pardonner tous ces arrets,
quoiqu'ils gatent ma musique.'^
^^Pourquoi cela?" inquired Sir Michael.
^^Parceque," replied Gounod, ^'a ce point il y
a douze stations, et a chaque station il faut natu-
rellement un arret. ' '
After all the typographical and other errors had
been rectified, the march' was tried through again
and went so magnificently as to arouse the master 's
undisguised admiration, which deepened with as-
tonishment when Costa informed him that the in-
strumentalists had never seen a note of the music
until that morning. Gounod said to me later,
^'They are wonderful readers, these English play-
ers. There is scarcely a mistake that is due to inac-
curate deciphering of the notes. And what makes
it even more remarkable is that my work is so full
of awkward chromatic progressions.'' I ventured
to observe that since he was last in London our
orchestras had been turning their attention some-
what extensively to Wagner.
Gounod retorted quickly, ^^Yes, I know that.
But you will not tell me that Wagner's four
semitones in ^Tristan' or his slurred runs (notes
coulees) in ^ Tannhauser ' require more delicate care
than my ^ framework of the augmented fifth. ' " ^
I thought I detected a slight touch of scorn in his
voice, and made no attempt to argue the point.
^An allusion to the peculiar harmonic structure which the com-
poser had avowedly employed as the predominant feature of the
accompanying chords in the ^ ' Eedemption. "
131
Musical Life in London
At that same rehearsal Gounod did an unusual
amount of singing. The solo vocalists comprised
what the new critic of the *^ Times/' Dr. Francis
Hueif er, was then fond of describing as the ' ' repre-
sentative English quartet''— Albani, Patey, Ed-
ward Lloyd, and Santley ; nor have I forgotten how
exquisitely William H. Cummings (now principal
of the Guildhall School of Music, London) delivered
the touching phrase allotted to the Penitent Thief.
But, as a matter of fact, Gounod, with his sympa-
thetic voix de compositeur, was singing more or
less all through the rehearsal, wisely exercising his
rare faculty for impressing his exact ideas upon the
interpreters of his music. And what beautiful
music it was ! What a tremendous effect it created
at Birmingham ! So deeply was Gounod impressed
by his triumph there, that, long before the ^* Re-
demption ' ' had been produced in Paris, he set about
writing his second great sacred work, ^^Mors et
Vita," for the Birmingham Festival of 1885. He
was paid an even larger price for this than for
its predecessor (I believe the exact sum was £4000
—$20,000), and he fully intended to come over to
conduct it. In the meanwhile, however, an action
had been brought against him in the English courts
by Mrs. Weldon, and, inasmuch as he was mulcted
in heavy damages, the composer deemed that ** dis-
cretion is the better part of valor," and stayed at
home in* Paris. He never ventured across the Chan-
nel again; but I saw him in his native city three
years later, as will be related in due time.
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CHAPTER VII
Augustus Harris: actor, metteur en scene, dramatic author,
theatrical manager, operatic impresario — A great stage-
manager and his military aide — Harris and Carl Rosa — Eng-
lish opera flourishes at Drury Lane — Arthur Goring Thomas
—Alexander C. Mackenzie— "Esmeralda." "Colomba," and
"Nadeshda."
ENTER Augustus Harris! For some time al-
ready has the figure of the well-known impre-
sario been looming large upon the operatic horizon
of these pages, and it is not only just but expedient
that he should now make his actual entry. Accu-
rately speaking, I am aware that his formal mana-
gerial connection with opera dates only from 1887.
He himself, however, would probably have dated it
from his cradle. *'My father was stage-manager
at Covent Garden, ^ * he would say ; ' ' and if any in-
fant ever stage-managed his father, I was that in-
fant. Almost as soon as I could run alone he used
to take me with him to the theatre. I remember
quite well, as a little boy, standing in the wings as
he walked about the stage, while the great prima
donnas came and petted and kissed me. ' ^ This was
in the '^sixties,'' when Augustus Harris, Sr., was
staging the heavy Meyerbeer revivals, and when
that brilliant star, Adelina Patti, had not long been
^25
Thirty Years of
shining in the operatic firmament. It is only liter-
ally true, therefore, to say that the youthful Au-
gustus, or ^^Gus," as all his friends were wont to
call him, was reared in the very atmosphere of the
coulisses.
He was educated both in France and in Ger-
many, and, as a matter of course, he went con-
stantly to the theatres in both countries. After his
return to England at the age of seventeen, one of
his first essays as an actor was to play the part of
the boy in ^'Pink Dominoes,'' under (Sir) Charles
Wyndham's management, at the Criterion. His
earliest acquaintance with the duties of an operatic
stage-manager was when he accompanied the Ma-
pleson troupe round the British provinces in that
capacity. The experience was invaluable; but his
chief ambition was to become lessee of Drury
Lane Theatre; and, with the assistance of his fa-
ther-in-law, he was enabled to fulfil that desire
when he had barely attained legal age. His first
pantomime and his first ''autumn drama'' were
both successful, and ere a year had passed he could
boast that he was paying his way at a theatre
which had "spelled ruin" for more than one astute
manager.
With the dramatic productions of Augustus
Harris I am not concerned. I have simply stated
the above facts in order to show the association of
the musical and theatrical elements in his nature
at the earliest period of his career. It must have
been late in 1878 or early in 1879 when I was
136
Musical Life in London
introduced to this remarkable man one night at the
Green Koom Club. The youthful Drury Lane man-
ager was full of life and high spirits, and I found
it very amusing to listen to his vivacious chatter.
We had not been talking two minutes before the
subject turned on opera— for even then, as in after
years, it was his favorite topic. Why, he wanted
to know, should London be worse off than the small
German cities, where the theatres were subsidized
and opera was being performed nearly the whole
year round? Why was the English press power-
less in this matter? Or was the press merely in-
different, like the people whose opinions and wishes
it was supposed to voice ? I told him I thought that
neither the cities nor the people were indifferent,
but that the love of opera had not yet become in-
grained in the hearts of the nation ; while, as to the
question of state support, I was doubtful whether
as good results would be derived from it as from
individual enterprise working upon independent
lines and combining artistic with commercial con-
sideration to the fullest practicable extent. And
then followed a very pretty argument, which lasted
well into the * ' small hours. ' '
Augustus Harris was even then a being of extra-
ordinary temperament ; brimming over with energy
and new ideas, fond of innovations, impatient of
the smallest delay in carrying out a project; the
strangest imaginable mixture of conceit and mod-
esty, rashness and discretion, extravagance and
common sense. He had the gift of imagination in
^37
Thirty Years of
an uncommon degree, and from the outset he
seemed to have the faculty of surrounding himself
with clever ^' heads of departments," with useful
assistants and with loyal friends. He was neither
a first-rate raconteur, nor even a fluent speaker, but
he loved to ^^ rattle on'' upon a subject that inter-
ested him, and he would invariably lead the laugh
over his own jokes. In disposition he was honest,
frank, and kindly in the extreme, and he was gen-
erous to a fault. Such, briefly, was the character
of the man who was subsequently to be responsible
for the renaissance of opera in England. And such,
with slight developments and few changes, it re-
mained until the close of his life. Toward the end
he grew more ready to listen to the voice of gossip,
and to trust his own judgment less than that of his
immediate entourage. Nevertheless, so correct
were his perceptions in most things, that he made
less than ten per cent, of the errors credited to him
by his critics.
If Harris inherited his father's genius as a met-
teur en scene, he brought to it something more. He
possessed much higher powers of organization. He
had a wholesome capacity for disregarding stupid
and worn-out traditions. He learned a great deal
from the German stage-managers, and especially
from the Meiningen troupe which he brought to
Drury Lane. The moving and the grouping of
the street crowds in the Meiningen production of
*^ Julius Caesar" were simply marvelous, and Au-
gustus Harris was wise enough to make the most
138
Musical Life in London
of that object-lesson. He applied it to every branch
of his work— pantomime, melodrama, comic opera,
and, last but not least, grand opera. Where he
felt that special technical advice and aid were
necessary, he was satisfied with none save the best.
During the preparation of one of his autumn
dramas (I think it was ** Human Nature'') I went
to Drury Lane while a rehearsal was in progress,
and sat down in the stalls to watch the training
of an army of supers in an imaginary fight with
some African natives. In due course this was fol-
lowed by a home-coming and a triumphal march
through Trafalgar Square, with the hero (dear old
Henry Neville) at the head of his victorious com-
pany. The whole business was splendidly done.
Actively assisting the manager in these opera-
tions was a gentleman in a frock coat and tall hat,
of undeniably military appearance, who impressed
me both by his quiet, masterful manner and the
imperturbable patience with which he directed
mancBuvres to be repeated over and over again
until they were satisfactorily executed. After the
rehearsal was concluded I went upon the stage.
xVugustus Harris was talking to his military ad-
viser. He beckoned me to approach. ^* Klein, I
want to introduce you to my friend Major Kit-
chener, who has been kind enough to come and help
me with this * soldiering' work. "What do you think
of it ? Did you ever see such fighting and marching
on the stage before?" I certainly never had, and
I offered my congratulations. They were accepted.
Thirty Years of
with a murmur of thanks and a shake of the hand,
by the man who was afterward to be the hero of
Omdurman and the victor in the great South
African war. He had gladly consented to place his
knowledge and experience at the disposal of the
popular theatrical manager.
The art-union of Augustus Harris and Carl Rosa
was an outcome of an affinity— of a peculiar mag-
netism which brought together men who had ideas
in common and could definitely work them out
to their mutual gain and for the benefit of the
world at large. Alas ! their partnership was all too
brief. What it would have achieved had it endured
another ten or fifteen years, I will not attempt to
guess, though undoubtedly it would have set opera
upon a far more solid and exalted pedestal than
it occupies in England at the present moment.
Still, as it was, it accomplished much. The Carl
Rosa seasons at Drury Lane marked a distinct for-
ward stride in the progress of opera in the ver-
nacular, particularly in the evidence that they af-
forded of the existence of a school of young British
composers imbued with genuine talent and evincing
an unsuspected mastery of the modern forms now
essential to appreciation and success. More than
this, the association of the two managers helped to
develop the artistic side of the younger man, and
to mature the aspirations which eventually were
realized in the brilliant opera revival of 1887.
It was at Easter, 1883, that Carl Rosa inau-
gurated his first season at Drury Lane. He must
140
Musical Life in London
have felt it a great relief to be able to depend upon
his new partner for the administration of all mat-
ters relating to the stage management and mise en
5ce we— departments which he had hitherto kept en-
tirely under his own personal control. Since 1880
he had been assisted in the work of conducting by
Mr. Randegger, who was now relinquishing much
of his time as a teacher for, what was to him, the
more pleasurable occupation of wielding the baton.
Every branch of the undertaking was carefully
supervised. The band and chorus were specially
augmented, and the company was an excellent one.
Under these favorable circumstances, two new
operas by English composers were brought to a
hearing, namely, Arthur Goring Thomas's ^^Esme-
ralda'' and Alexander C. Mackenzie's ^^Colomba."
It was purely an experiment, and Carl Rosa him-
self had little faith in its success. I remember his
saying: *^I look upon this as a duty that I owe to
native art, and not as a business speculation. Mind,
both these operas are interesting and beautiful, or
I should not have accepted them. But they are
by British composers— by men whose names are
hardly known to the public. How, then, can I dare
hope they will succeed?" And yet they did suc-
ceed— ^'Esmeralda" by virtue of graceful, emo-
tional strains allied to a moving and ever-eifective
drama; ^^Colomba" on the strength of musical
merits that overcome, temporarily at least, the
incubus of a clumsy and ponderous libretto.
^* Esmeralda," indeed, made quite a hit from the
141
Thirty Years of
first. * ^ Who is Goring Thomas ! ' ^ people began to
ask. Musicians knew him as a Royal Academy stu-
dent who had finished his education in Paris, and
had become so intensely imbued with the manner-
isms of Gounod and Massenet that he was prac-
tically incapable of putting music to any but French
lyrics.^ His cantata ^ ' The Sun- Worshipers, ' ' pro-
duced at the Norwich Festival of 1881, was so un-
original that, despite its evident talent, it had
barely escaped ridicule. ** Esmeralda'' showed an
immense advance, and in later years its charm was
potent enough to attract the favorable notice of
Jean de Reszke, Lassalle, and Melba, who appeared
in a revised version of the opera in French at Co-
vent Garden and also in New York. The original
English cast, however, was not to be despised:
Georgina Burns as Esmeralda, Clara Perry (now
Mrs. Ben Davies) as Fleur de Lys, Barton Mc-
Guckin as Phoebus, James Ludwig as Claude
Frollo, Ben Davies (making his debut in opera) as
Gringoire, and Leslie Crotty as Quasimodo— a
first-rate ensemble. The libretto was by Messrs.
Alberto Randegger and Theo. Marzials, the former
of whom conducted the performance, and later
superintended the production of the opera at
Cologne.
The contrast between ** Esmeralda" and ^*Co-
lomba'' was very striking; the methods of the two
^ He told me this himself for a fact. It took him years to
learn how to handle English poetry, and he never thoroughly mas-
tered the knack of doing so.
142
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composers were ^^wide as the poles asunder.''
That of A. C. Mackenzie's was as unmistakably
Teutonic as Goring Thomas's was purely Gallic.
The subjects both had been taken from French
sources ; and, sombre though it might be, there was
no reason why Prosper Merimee's ^'Colomba"
should not have furnished material for an opera-
book quite as effective as his ^* Carmen." But,
whereas the authors of ^'Esmeralda" continuallv
introduced bright relief in their opera. Dr. Francis
Hueffer in ^^Colomba" sought to emphasize only
the darker episodes of the Corsican vendetta, while
carrying his craze for accurate *^ local color" to
an extreme that bordered upon the absurd. At
that time there was no gainsaying the dictum of
the critic of the ^ ^Times''— particularly when he
trudged about the stage at rehearsal, umbrella in
hand, now communicating his ideas to the perform-
ers, now ^Maying down the law" across the foot-
lights to the poor composer, who sat in his place
in the orchestra patiently awaiting the pleasure
of his autocratic collaborator. Yet, thanks simply
to the beauty of the music (the orchestration
was especially fine), '^Colomba" made its mark
with the more cultivated section of the public, and
opened the eyes of the critics to the rare talent of
the Scottish musician who, five years later, was to
succeed Sir George Macfarren as principal of the
Royal Academy of Music. The title-role was ad-
mirably created by Alwina Valleria; Barton Mc-
Guckin played the hero, Or so; and that capital
1+5
Thirty Years of
basso, Franco Novara, whose real name was Nash,
was also in the cast.
The success of these operas made a deep im-
pression upon Carl Rosa and Augustus Harris.
They began to see that there was a future in store
for the rising English school. The two composers
were each commissioned to write another opera;
and meanwhile, in 1884, a work more genuinely
English than either '^Esmeralda" or '^Colomba"
—namely, ^'The Canterbury Pilgrims" of Villiers
Stanford— was brought out at Drury Lane with
marked success. The name of Mackenzie also de-
rived wide prominence that year through the tri-
umph of his fine oratorio, ' ' The Rose of Sharon, ' '
at the Norwich Festival,^ which resulted in his be-
ing requested to write a work (''The Story of
Sayid'') for the Leeds Festival of 1886. With so
much to do, no wonder Goring Thomas was ready
before him with a new opera. The composer of
''Esmeralda" had been fortunate enough to dis-
cover a new librettist in Mr. Julian Sturgis, an
American litterateur unknown to fame in England,
who had submitted a promising scenario upon a
Russian subject. The title of the new opera was
"Nadeshda." Goring Thomas devoted the best
part of 1884 to writing the music, and it was an-
^ Always to be remembered as the occasion of the debut in
England of Miss Emma Nevada, who, in order to identify herself
completely^ with her part, appeared at the concert as the Bose of
Sharon, wearing a pink costume, with pink hat and gloves, and
with her copy of the oratorio bound in the same soft tint — in fact,
everything couleur de rose!
146
Musical Life in London
nounced for production at Dniry Lane in April,
1885. Unusual secrecy was observed with regard
to the work,— almost as much, in fact, as in the case
of a new Savoy opera,— but I persuaded the com-
poser to lend me an advance copy of the book, and
published a notice of the story in the '^Sunday
Times. ' ^ This evoked the following letter from the
ever-nervous Carl B-osa:
10 Warwick Crescent, Maida Hill, W.
24th March, 1885.
Dear Klein:
I saw the ''Nadeshda" plot to-day, and must confess
it is admirably written. But where did you get the ma-
terial from— from an artist, eh^ I have only this morn-
ing sent words of the tenor song now to be sung to the
printer 's, and did not want to get copies in the hands
of the press before the book was complete.
Sincerely yours,
Carl Eosa.
^ ' Nadeshda ' ' made an instantaneous success. It
was pronounced immeasurably stronger than * ^ Es-
meralda, ' ' the music showing a wonderful advance
alike in originality and dramatic grip. Hand-
somely staged by Augustus Harris, splendidly sung
by Alwina Valleria, Josephine Yorke, Barton Mc-
Guckin, and Leslie Crotty, it achieved the hit of
the season and evoked eulogies that must have de-
lighted the soul of the modest composer. During
the following autumn and winter, ^^Nadeshda'^ was
brought out in several Continental cities, and,
147
Thirty Years of
knowing how little Goring Thomas sought adver-
tisement on these occasions, I used to take plea-
sure in letting him know what was going on. Oc-
casionally he would come to me for information;
as when he sent me this letter :
Eatton, Willingdon, Sussex,
January 9, 1886.
My dear Klein :
I heard accidentally this morning from Mme. Viardot^
that *'Nadeshda" is going to be given in Berlin. Can you
tell me when ? Her late pupil, Mile. Leisinger, is to sing
the soprano part, and wrote to her to ask where she
could get a score. I have not heard anything about it,
and should be very glad if you could give me any news.
Please send your reply to 52 Wimpole Street, as I am
coming up on Saturday.
With best wishes for the New Year, believe me.
Yours truly,
A. Goring Thomas.
Mackenzie was less lucky in his second attempt.
Again he had the misfortune to be hampered by
one of Dr. Hueffer's elephantine librettos. Hence
'^The Troubadour,'' with its ghastly climax,
wherein the erring heroine is compelled by her hus-
band to drink a goblet filled with the blood of the
fascinating Guillem de Cabestanh, proved too much
for even those who admired the melodic charm and
dramatic power of the music. This was the novelty
^ Pauline Viardot-Garcia, the famous singer and teacher, then re-
siding in Paris, a great friend of the young English composer.
148
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Musical Life in London
for 1886. Not much more successful was Mr. Fred-
eric Corder^s ^^Nordisa'* in the following year;
but the ball by now had been fairly set rolling, and
the public, both in London and the provinces, had
awakened to the fact that there were native com-
posers equal to the task of writing operas to which
the world would listen. By what chain of untoward
circumstances the progress of this native movement
was impeded, if not stopped altogether, will be
made clear later. But let me say here that the
'^unkindest cut of alP' was the premature and
tragic death ^ of the gifted Arthur Goring Thomas,
one of the most lovable men, one of the most
inspired lyrical writers, and one of the most ear-
nest, painstaking musicians that England ever pro-
duced.
* In the autumn of 1891 he sustained a severe fall, from the
effects of which he never altogether recovered. On the evening
of March 20, 1892, he committed suicide by throwing himself
under a train at the West Hampstead station of the Metropolitan
Kailway.
151
CHAPTER VIII
Decay of old Italian opera— Rise of the young Italian school—
Masterly mismanagement and financial coUapse at Co vent
Garden— Pauline Lucca— A notable dinner-party— Marcella
Sembrich's surprise— Antonin Dvorak relates the story of his
romantic career — Camille Saint-Saens —The French master
and English oratorio.
THE history of Italian opera in London during
the middle ^' eighties'^ is a history of *' de-
cline and fall." As the fortunes of English and
German opera improved, so did the glorious
^^ palmy days" of the older school recede deeper
and deeper into the shadows of the past. There
is no need to dwell at length upon this process of
deterioration; the causes thereof are well known
and understood. I shall note rather the events
which ever and anon revived the flickering embers
and kept them burning until finally the requisite
fuel arrived from a new and unsuspected source.
Interest was keenly excited by the production
at Her Majesty's, in July, 1880, of Boito's ^^Mefis-
tofele." The work had been much talked of
since its revival, in revised form, at Bologna in
1875, and Mr. Mapleson took creditable pams to
mount it in such fashion that there should be
few looijholes for criticism. Truth to tell, it was
152
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an exceedingly good representation all round.
Christine Nilsson 's embodiment of the dual role of
Margherita and Helen of Troy had much of poetry
and charm; Trebelli was as fascinating and artis-
tic as ever in the contralto parts ; Campanini made
an excellent Faust; and Nannetti lent rare sardonic
color and alertness to the part of Mefistofele, Sir
Michael Costa was still vigorous enough to conduct
Bo'ito's opera in his old resolute, vigilant manner;
and very delighted he was over its success, which
lent quite a special distinction to the season.
At this time there was little thought of a '^ young
Italian school.'' Nevertheless, Verdi had been si-
lent since ^^Aida"; ^ and the success of Boito was
bound to draw attention to the claims of Ponchi-
elli. The Cremonese musician had been writing
and bringing out operas for a quarter of a century,
two of which at least— ^ 'I Lituani" and ^'La Gio-
conda''— had met with emphatic favor in Italy.
Mr. Ernest Gye now determined to try ^^La Gio-
conda" at Covent Garden ; and he produced it there
in May, 1883, before a crowded and demonstrative
house. A fine cast was engaged— Gay arre as Enzo,
Cotogni as Barnaba, Edouard de Eeszke as Alvise,
Scalchi as La decay and an American soprano, Ma-
rie Durand, who had already won fame in Italy, as
the heroine. La Gioconda. The opera was warmly
received, and for a few representations drew good
houses. It never became as lastingly popular,
however, as either ^'Aida'' or ' ^ Mefistof ele, " in
^ Originally brought out at Cairo in December, 1871.
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Thirty Years of
the former of which, by the way, Josephine de
Reszke, the elder sister of Jean and Edouard, had
sung at Covent Garden during the season of 1881.
Meanwhile, the strength of Mr. Mapleson's
combination at Her Majesty's, already seriously
affected by the death of Tietjens, received a fatal
blow through the secession of Christine Nilsson,
who retired from the operatic stage in 1881. This
gifted artist, the second and last of the great
^^ Swedish Nightingales,'' was one of the most re-
markable singers of her time. Her voice, a pure
soprano of very lovely quality, possessed a singu-
larly pathetic timbre, a curious commingling of
sweetness and power, to which she allied a charm
of expression that was absolutely haunting.
Moreover, she was a born actress, and her charac-
teristic spontaneity was of a kind that enabled
her to stamp such characters as Mignon, Ophelia,
Marguerite, Alice, and Elsa with the most marked
and refreshing individuality. Christine Nilsson
had been about eight years before the public
when I first heard her in 1872 at Drury Lane in
** Robert le Diable"; and her impersonation of
Alice— the favorite role of her renowned country-
woman Jenny Lind— shone resplendent amid a
constellation of stars that included Mongini as
Roberto, Gardoni as Rambaldo, Foli as Bertramo,
and lima di Murska as Isabella. She had then
just returned from a prolonged concert-tour in
America, and her marriage at Westminster Abbey
with M. Auguste Rouzeaud was one of the promi-
154
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nent events of the season of 1872. Sixteen years
later she bade her final farewell to British audi-
ences at a concert given at the Royal Albert Hall.
The financial collapse of the ^' Royal Italian
Opera'' occurred after the season of 1884. I do not
pretend to lay bare the secrets of the masterly mis-
management that led to the failure of the company
which then held the sub-lease of Covent Garden.
The late Earl of Lathom— most gracious and ami-
able of Lord Chamberlains— was not, perhaps, a
sufficiently strong man to preside over such an
enterprise. Neither Ernest nor Herbert Gye (co-
directors of the company) had inherited the ad-
ministrative talents of his father; and it is gen-
erally supposed that Ernest, who had been for some
years the husband of Mme. Albani, was consider-
ably influenced in his management of the concern
by the advice of his wife, one of the principal prime
donne of the establishment. Apart from this, the
only real explanation is that society had begun to
lose interest in the opera as a social function, and
chose to be conspicuous by its absence on all but
the ^'Patti nights.'' For the career of the cele-
brated diva was now at its zenith, her wondrous
voice in its prime, and her incomparable vocaliza-
tion had become absolutely perfect. Not even so-
ciety could afford to remain away when the magic
name of Adelina Patti was * ^ in the bill. ' '
Yet there were other great artists in the troupe
beside those whose names have been mentioned in
the last page or two. A host in herself was the
^57
Thirty Years of
accomplished and captivating Pauline Lncca, who,
after an absence of ten years, returned to Covent
Garden in 1882 to gratify opera-goers once more
with her unrivaled impersonations of Selika in
* ^ L ^Af ricaine, ' ' Cheruhino in ^'Le Nozze,^' Zerlina
in ^^Fra Diavolo,'^ Leonora in ^'La Favorita,'' and
other characters. Despite her twenty- three years
upon the stage, this brilliant artist was now also at
her best; her voice had lost none of its freshness,
and the piquant grace of her style and the marked
originality of her conceptions were even more
striking than before. Her Selika^ I can best de-
scribe in a single word as a ^' dream ''—a supreme
achievement to be mentioned in the same breath
with the Bosina of Adelina Patti and the Mar-
guerite of Christine Nilsson. Supported by Mier-
zwinsky as Vasco da Gama, Lassalle as NeluskOy
Bagagiolo as Pedro, and Valleria as Inez, Pauline
Lucca's performance in ^ ' L 'Af ricaine ' ' is to be
folded in the lavender of one's memory. She was
also heard here then for the first time in ^^ Car-
men''; and her impersonation of Bizet's heroine,
while differing in many essentials from Minnie
Hank's, was distinguished by all the attributes of
voluptuous charm, subtle power, and dramatic in-
tensity that the character demands.
I owe to Pauline Lucca, or Baroness WallhofPen,
as she then was in private life, a recollection of one
* Pauline Lucca studied the role of Selika under Meyerbeer,
and sang it on the first production of ' ' L 'Af ricaine " in England
in 1865, two years after her first appearance at Covent Garden.
158
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of the most enjoyable evenings I have ever spent.
During the summer of 1884 she graciously ex-
pressed a wish to give a dinner in my honor. In
mid-season, however, the hard-worked critic has
little time to spare, so it was first arranged that
the dinner should come off on a Sunday. After-
ward it was found necessary to postpone the date
until the following Wednesday. Unfortunately, a
performance of ^ ^ Tristan ' ' was announced for that
day, and, as I felt in duty bound to attend it, I
wrote the baroness a letter expressing my regret
that I should be compelled either to ask for a fur-
ther postponement, or else deny myself the pleasure
of coming to her dinner. In reply I received the
following characteristic note:
[Translated from the German.]
June 25, 1884.
I beg you, worthy friend, not to be angry — it is im-
possible for me to choose another day. You can go on,
anyhow, to the opera for two hours afterward. You
know "Tristan und Isolde" is long; thus you will not
be neglecting your duty, for which I should never for-
give myself were I the cause. We will sit down punctu-
ally to table. With hearty greetings from house to house,
Yours truly,
Pauline Wallhoffen.
It was impossible to resist so polite and persua-
sive an invitation. I went to the dinner, and
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Thirty Years of
made up my mind not to miss the last act of
' ' Tristan. ^ ^ But I had not exactly reckoned upon
the nature of the attractions from which I should
have to tear myself away. In point of fact, it was
a remarkable gathering. Beside the prima donna
and her husband, the party comprised Mme. Mar-
cella Sembrich and Herr Stengel (to whom then
she had not been long married), Signor and Mme.
Bevignani, M. Mierzwinsky, M. Edouard de Reszke,
and others. The meal was extremely merry, and it
lasted a couple of hours. When we had joined the
ladies I made signs indicative of an early depart-
ure; but my hostess simply laughed and said:
*'Now we have got you here, we mean to keep
you. No ^ Tristan ' to-night ! I have requested a fair
young violinist to play expressly for you, and the
Chevalier Emil Bach^ has been good enough to
come round for the purpose of accompanying her. ' ^
This rather chilled me. To listen to ^ ^ fair young
violinists'' was no particular novelty, and I began
to feel that I should prefer ** Tristan.'' But I
could say nothing, and waited with as much grace
as I could command. In due time the * * young vio-
linist" was announced. The door opened, and,
who should enter, fiddle in hand, with a solemn
bow, but Mme. Sembrich, laughing mischievously
* Then quite a newcomer in London. He settled down there
as a pianist and teacher, and composed the operas * * Irmengarda ' '
and ' ' The Lady of Longford, ^ ' both of which Sir Augustus
Harris mounted at Covent Garden. Mr. Bach died quite suddenly
in 1902.
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Copyright by A. Dupont, N. Y.
MARCELLA SEMBRICH
Musical Life in London
and ready to begin her solo. I then remembered
that the vivacious little Galician lady, who had
been delighting London for the past four seasons,
was an accomplished violinist as well as a brilliant
singer. She played us piece after piece, and under
the spell of her art I fear duty was too quickly
forgotten. My hostess was right. There was no
*' Tristan" for me that night.
In this year (1884) I made the acquaintance of
Antonin Dvorak, who came to London for the pur-
pose of conducting a performance of his ^'Stabat
Mater. '^ The work had made a great sensation
when given in the previous year by the London
Musical Society under Barnby. It was again per-
formed at the Worcester Festival of 1884, under
the composer ^s direction; and he came over yet a
third time to conduct his cantata ^^The Spectre's
Bride, ' ' which he wrote expressly for the Birming-
ham Festival of 1885. During this last visit,
Dvorak came to my house in London with the ob-
ject of giving me some particulars of his early
life, which duly appeared in the ^ ^ Sunday Times. ' '
His name at that period was scarcely to be found
in a single musical dictionary, and though the omis-
sion has since been rectified, the dates and details
are so often incorrect that it may be worth while
for me to give here the story of Dvorak 's romantic
career, told as nearly as possible in his own words :
**Iwas born in 1841 at Miihlhausen (in Bohemian,
Nelahozeves), about four miles from Kralup. My
parents were poor. My father was a butcher and
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Thirty Years of
intended me for his trade. At the age of thirteen
I was taking lessons in singing and the violin from
our village schoolmaster, Josef Spitz, and sang in
the choir on Sundays. At fourteen, perceiving that
I had musical talent, my father sent me to live with
my uncle at a place called Zlonic (near Schau),
where I was taken in hand by the organist, Anton
Liehmann, and in 1856 I began to study the piano.
*^In Bohemia every child must learn music and,
if possible, sing in church. I think this law explains
the development of so much natural talent for
music in my country. It is not only the gipsies
and their music that are the responsible factors.
There are the beautiful national * chorales,' which
the people so dearly love. They sing them as they
work in the fields, and the spirit of music enters
their souls. Of course they love to dance — are
they not Slavs? Why, after church they revel in
music and dancing, sometimes until early morning !
In fact, it is the favorite amusement of the race.
Admission to these dance-meetings is always free,
but a collection is made afterward for the musi-
cians. I used to be among the fiddlers and received
my share, which I always gave to my father.
** When my father came to live at Zlonic in 1856-
1857, he taught me his trade, and I learned how to
buy sheep and kill them. But I liked my musical
studies better, especially now that I could begin
to read a little and dip into the scores of such
masses as Haydn's in D minor, Mozart's in C ma-
jor, and Cherubini's in D minor. The feeling de-
164
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veloped ; I wanted to try to write something ; but
the different keys for the clarinets, the bass trum-
pet, the horns, and the trombone worried me
greatly. Still, I was too proud to ask for these to
be explained. At last I managed to write a polka,
and showed it to my teacher. He found only one
mistake— in the trumpet part, which should have
been in F major. I carried my piece home in tri-
umph, and it was tried by the band. But, alas ! the
whole thing to my ears sounded totally wrong.
^ ^ Then I began to work at counterpoint and the
organ, teaching myself most of the time. I got
hold of a big book on counterpoint, full of ' figured
bass, ' the meaning of which was not explained ; but
as soon as I understood I used to read whole masses
from the 'figured bass.' At last some of my fa-
ther's friends, believing that I possessed real talent,
persuaded him to send me to Prague. I stayed
with some relations, and was allowed eight gulden
(about $3.60) per month during part of the two
years (1857 to 1859) that I spent in the capital.
I entered a college which still exists for the instruc-
tion of organists and musical directors, and be-
came a pupil of Josef Pitsch. On his death I
studied under his successor, a very clever musician
named Krejci, who was choirmaster at a large
church and took me there to sing with his best
pupils.
*'My studies now ended. Of instrumentation,
it is true, I understood very little. As for Mozart
and Beethoven, I only just knew they had existed.
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Thirty Years of
But I had to earn a living somehow. And how
was it to be done 1 Well, I thought, I can play the
violin decently, I must try to get a place in a band.
So I went to a Kapellmeister, who had a band of
eighteen or twenty, and asked him whether he
would take me. He engaged me to play the viola
at twenty- two gulden ($9.90) a month, and I was
delighted. I also joined a sextet that used to per-
form regularly at a lunatic asylum, and there I was
engaged to play the organ for the Sunday services.
We used to play at various cafes, giving potpourris
and overtures of every description; and I remem-
ber that the overture to ' ' Maritana ' ' was frequently
in our programme. This was in 1860.
^^One Sunday I went to hear ^Der Freischiitz'
at the German Theatre. The Bohemian National
Theatre was not yet in existence. Bohemian artists
then had to sing in German, but, as a concession,
were allowed to sing an opera in their own lan-
guage every Sunday afternoon. The * Freischiitz '
made an enormous impression on me; but I could
not afford the necessary ten kreutzers (40 cents)
very often. I used to contrive, however, to hear
good concerts occasionally by slipping into the
orchestra and hiding behind the drums. In this
way I saw Spohr in 1859, when he conducted a
grand concert to celebrate the fiftieth anniversary
of the Prague Conservatoire ; and then it was that
I heard Beethoven's ^choral' symphony for the
first time.
^'In 1861 I wrote my first two serious composi-
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Musical Life in London
tions, the string quintet in G and the quartet in A
minor. I persuaded some friends to play the
quintet, and they were rather pleased with it. It
reminded them of Haydn, Mozart, and early Bee-
thoven. Thereupon I showed it to my teacher,
Krejci, and was very proud when he expressed
himself contented. Next year the new National
Theatre was built, and I was engaged to play in
the orchestra. The first operas given were Bellini 's
^Capuletti ed i Montecchi' and 'Norma,' Rossini's
'Otello,' and Cherubini's 'Water-Carrier.' In
1863 I went to Hamburg to play in the band at the
exliibition. At home in Prague we all lived in the
same house, and my companions used to laugh at
me for working so hard at composing— one espe-
cially who is now a Kapellmeister and conducts my
operas. But I persevered, and had the good for-
tune to make the acquaintance of a valuable musical
friend in Karl Bendl, who used to lend me his
scores. Among other works, I studied the quartets
of Onslow and Beethoven's septet, and so gradu-
ally developed fresh ideas.
"Most of my compositions of that epoch are long
since torn up or burned; and I wrote quantities
of stuff after I had thrown up my theatre engage-
ment and taken to teaching in order to have more
time to compose. I had now (1871) a great am-
bition to write an opera. I found a libretto en-
titled 'Konig und Kohler' (King and Collier) and
set to work upon it. In due time I submitted the
score to the manager of the National Theatre, who
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Thirty Years of
ordered it to be tried at rehearsal. I confess it
was very Wagnerian. I had heard 'Die Meister-
singer,' and the new influence was very strong
upon me. My music was horribly difficult. At the
piano rehearsals the singers could make little of it ;
with the chorus it was still worse— infinitely more
difficult, they said, than Wagner. Ultimately every-
body laughed at me, and my opera was refused.^
Four years later I completely rewrote the score,
more in the national style, and made it easy to sing
and play. It was then produced with great suc-
cess, and helped my reputation materially.
''In 1874 I was appointed organist of St. Adal-
bert's Church, at the enormous salary of one hun-
dred and sixty gulden ($72) per annum, for which
I had to get up at half-past five o 'clock every morn-
ing. The payment worked out at about two
kreutzers (eight cents) per mass. Meanwhile, too,
I had indulged in the luxury of taking to myself
a wife, a very musical Prague lady, who for many
years sang contralto in one of the churches.
"At last, in 1875, I was granted the 'artist' sti-
pend of four hundred gulden (for one year only)
from the Kultusministerium at Vienna. To ob-
tain this I had sent in as 'exercises' my opera and
my symphony in F, Op. 25. The second year I
sent in my 'Stabat Mater' and my grand opera
^ Dvorak' was not ashamed to acknowledge that he was at this
time very much influenced in his harmony and instrumentation by
Wagner. He saw him conduct, and used to follow the master
as he walked the streets of Prague. He admired him immensely.
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Musical Life in London
* Wanda/ which was played a few months later
with immense success. Yet from these works no
stipend resulted [!]. I tried again by adding my
pianoforte concerto, the piano variations in A flat,
and the string quartet in D minor, and this time
was favored with an allowance of five hundred
gulden. Next year, through the influence of Jo-
hannes Brahms, Edward Hanslick, and Herbeck,
the sum was raised to six hundred gulden.
^^I now wrote to Brahms and asked him if he
would Idndly use his influence with some publishers
to bring out my compositions. He replied that he
would be happy to do so, and a little later on I
received a satisfactory communication from Sim-
rock, of Berlin, who afterward told me I was the
first person on whose behalf Brahms had yet in-
terested himself. Simrock paid me nothing for my
^ Marischen ' duets, but he asked me to compose the
'Slavische Tanze,' and gave me three hundred
marks ($75) for them. That was the first money
I ever received for a composition. ' '
And here Dvorak 's narrative ceased. I need add
naught to it concerning the years that came after,
for their history is as an ^^open book'' both to the
Old and to the New World, where the gifted Bohe-
mian has been a leading light and a familiar figure.
One of the most original and remarkable creative
musicians of our era, he is also one of those whom
success has not spoiled. But if the pen of this great
and modest genius be less active, less prolific, than
of yore, it is only necessary to glance at the story
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Thirty Years of
of those strenuous early days to understand why
Antonin Dvorak is a little tired, and not unwilling
to continue the otiiim cum dignitate, or at least to
work lightly and at his ease, during the remaining
years of his existence.
Another famous contemporary composer whom
I am proud to count among my best friends is
Camille Saint- Saens. I was introduced to him by
Signor Garcia, whom he used to visit at Bentinck
Street whenever he came to London. At that period
he was regarded by English amateurs (ignorant as
yet of the very existence of Cesar Franck and his
disciples) as the leader of the advanced French
school. Orthodox musicians considered him ec-
centric ; more modern thinkers admired his mixture
of Teutonic severity with the ultra-saccharine
melodiousness of Gounod. Both parties agreed to
recognize in the then organist of the Paris Made-
leine (a post held by Saint-Saens from 1858 until
1877) a musician of prodigious talent, endowed
with a versatility that enabled him to shine in every
branch of his art, and possessed of a mastery of
technique that could adapt itself to whatsoever
style he might for the moment choose to exploit.
He was as brilliant a pianist as he was an organist,
—his habit of playing the one instrument never
spoiled his exquisite touch for the other,— and his
gift of improvisation was marvelous.
Saint-Saens made his debut in London, in 1871,
at the Musical Union ; but I did not hear him until
1879, when he played his own pianoforte concerto
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in G minor at the Philharmonic. He was then
anxiously canvassing the chances of mounting his
new opera, *^ Samson et Dalila/' which had been
produced at Weimar in 1877, under the auspices of
his friend Franz Liszt, but had not yet been
granted a hearing in the composer's own country.^
He quickly learned, however, that our puritanical
laws precluded all likelihood of his biblical opera
finding its way to the English stage. During the
next few years we became very close friends. I
always called upon him when I went to Paris, and
he rarely missed coming to see me when he was in
London.
One of these visits happened at a very sad mo-
ment. I was out when M. Saint-Saens called at
Bentinck Street, and he found the members of my
family in a state of terrible agitation. One of my
younger brothers had been playing with a pistol
and had accidentally shot himself through the
head. He had expired only a few minutes before.
The youngest boy, Manuel,^ who had witnessed the
^ ' ' Samson et Dalila ' ' was not actually heard in France until
1890, when it was brought out at Eouen with the late Elena Sanz
as Dalila. This clever artist also took part in the first concert
representation of the work in England during the Promenade
Concert season at Covent Garden in 1893. ''Samson" has never
yet been performed upon the stage in England.
^ Some ten years later Manuel went to reside in New York,
where our brothers Alfred and Charles had already earned promi-
nent positions — the first as an actor, the second as a dramatist.
Deciding to adopt a musical career, Manuel seriously took up the
study of composition, and in due time published several songs
and pianoforte pieces which met with favor. His first substantial
173
Thirty Years of
mishap, endeavored to explain what had occurred
to M. Saint-Saens. He caught the words ^'mon
frere'' and ''inort," and immediately jumped to
the conclusion that it was I who was dead. He
burst into tears, and was so much affected that
some time elapsed before he could be made to un-
derstand that I was not the victim. Later in the
day we met, and the warm-hearted Frenchman
gave me an embrace that showed plainly his glad-
ness at once more seeing me in the flesh.
Finding that England was a much likelier ground
for oratorio than opera, he arranged through
Messrs. Novello for the performance of his at-
tractive setting of Psalm xix, '^The Heavens de-
clare,'' which was duly performed (and very badly
into the bargain) by the Sacred Harmonic Society
at St. James's Hall in 1885. Two years later a
much better rendering of the psalm was given at
the Norwich Festival under Mr. Randegger. Mean-
while Saint-Saens had expressed to me his desire
to write an oratorio upon the subject of Moses, and
asked me whether I would furnish him with the
necessary biblical text. I readily consented, and,
after arranging the plan with him, set to work upon
my task. In a few weeks I sent the text to Paris.
He was not entirely satisfied, and returned it for
alterations. These evidently answered the purpose,
success, however, was the musical piece ''Mr. Pickwick,'^ which
he wrote in collaboration with Charles and conducted during its
run at the Herald Square Theatre, New York, in the winter of
1903.
174
Musical Life in London
for, toward the end of 1886, he wrote me : ^ ^ I find
that now it is all right. The monotony which made
me uneasy exists no longer. '^ After this I heard
nothing until he came to London in the following
June. He then gave some recitals, and accom-
plished his memorable feat of performing his own
four pianoforte concertos at one sitting,^ which,
as it took place on the anniversary of Waterloo,
was generally supposed to be intended as a revenge
for the defeat of the French in that immortal battle.
During the holidays I called upon the wayward
master when passing through Paris, but he was
out of town. Still without news of ^^ Moses,'' I
wrote him a long account of the success of his psalm
at Norwich, and that I was hoping to arrange for
the production of the new oratorio there. I re-
ceived in reply the following letter:
[Translated from the French.]
Paris, October 18, 1887.
My dear Friend:
Nothing could be more agreeable than the news you
give me of my Psalm. I cannot console myself for not
having gone to hear it; I was detained in Paris by some
business at the opera. When you were in Paris I was
compelled to leave hurriedly for Boulogne. I sent you
a telegram from Creil asking you to come and dine with
me the following day; but, whether through a mistake
in the address, or some other cause, the telegram never
reached you.
^St. James's Hall, June 18, 1887; Mr. W. Ganz, conductor.
^75
Musical Life in London
Should the oratorio be arranged for Norwich, I shall
be very glad. I shall, as you say, have all the necessary
time for devoting myself entirely to it, which seems to
me indispensable for a work of this magnitude. You
will undertake to negotiate with a publisher; I should
very much like Novello. . . . ''Moi'se" will probably be
my last work. It must worthily crown my career !
Your faithful and affectionate,
C. Saint-Saens.
But the Fates were not kind to ^^Moi'se." The
Norwich authorities were unwilling to pledge them-
selves so long beforehand to accept a work of un-
known proportions. I then opened negotiations
with the Leeds committee ; but difficulties were also
raised in that direction, and in the midst of the
delay it came to the ears of Saint-Saens that Anton
Rubinstein was just completing a biblical opera in
eight tableaux, entitled ^^ Moses/' which would
shortly be produced at St. Petersburg or Moscow.^
This was enough for the French composer. He
at once relinquished all idea of writing an oratorio
upon the subject. I asked him to return my text,
and after a few weeks it came back accom^Danied
by the following brief epistle :
Voici ''Moise," et avec lui mes meilleurs amities.
C. Saint-Saens.
^ As a matter of fact, Rubinstein had been engaged for nearly
twenty ye5,rs upon this big work, which, however, Avas not produced
until 1894. It was then mounted at Riga with a company of no
fewer than four hundred performers, and upon a scale of the
utmost scenic grandeur.
176
CHAPTER IX
Franz Liszt— His last visit to London— A marvelous survival of
a glorious past— Rubinstein's farewell to England: his "his-
torical recitals "—An operatic debacle — Lago to the rescue —
Growth of the Wagner Cult— Hans Richter and Arthur SuUivan
—England's gi*eatest musician: his ideas, habits, and attri-
butes— "The Golden Legend" at Leeds Festival— Georg
Henschel.
THERE was, for musical dwellers in London,
something almost providential in the visit
paid by Franz Liszt during the spring of 1886. He
had not stood upon British soil for forty-five years.
There seemed to be but the remotest likelihood that,
at the age of seventy-five, he would ever trouble
himself again to travel over land and sea to a coun-
try whose attitude toward him and his works had
invariably been chilly and unsympathetic. But the
persuasions of his pupil and protagonist, Walter
Bache, who worked so long and lovingly to obtain
recognition and appreciation for his master's
works, at last proved effectual. On the evening
of April 3 he arrived. On the morning of the 20th
he departed. Three months later— on the night of
July 31— he died at Bayreuth of pneumonia, re-
sulting from a bronchial cold, which he aggravated
by attending one of the first performances of
177
Thirty Years of
'' Tristan und Isolde," given at his old friend
Richard Wagner's Biihnenfestspielhaus.
I was one of a party of guests invited to meet
the Abbe Liszt on the night of Saturday, April 3,
at Westwood House, Sydenham, where he was to
be the guest of Mr. Henry Littleton (then head of
the firm of Novello & Co.) during his stay in Eng-
land. I went early, and was just in time to see him
welcomed by his host after a fatiguing journey
from Paris. He had been met at Dover by Mr.
Alfred Littleton, the eldest son and present head
of the house, who gave me an interesting account of
the trip. There could be no doubt that Liszt was
extremely dubious concerning our real feelings
toward him. In fact, the position was very much
akin to that in which Wagner had stood nine years
before, only with this important difference: that
Wagner came ^'professionally," for the purpose
of extracting British gold from British pockets,
whereas Liszt was here, purely in a private capa-
city, to attend some performances of his works. He
was simply nervous, therefore, lest, being no longer
a public artist, he should be shining in the reflected
light of his past glories as a virtuoso in an at-
mosphere that was uncongenial to him as a cre-
ative musician.
An hour after his arrival he entered the vast oak-
paneled apartment which had just been added as
a music-room to Westwood House. It was crowded
with all the musical notabilities then in London,
every one of them anxious to gaze upon the visage
178
Musical Life in London
of the man who was then perhaps the most inter-
esting musical figure in the world. Dressed in his
semi-priestly garb, the venerable abbe walked
slowly down the steps leading to the floor of the
room, and smiled graciously upon the groups that
saluted him as he passed. He looked somewhat
tired, and it was remarked by those who knew him
that he had aged considerably during the last few
years. But his still bright eye, his still brilliant
powers of conversation, his still industrious habits,
all precluded the smallest suspicion that the end
was so near. His attention that evening was
largely monopolized by old friends; still, many
new ones were brought to his notice, and I had the
pleasure of being introduced with a kind word or
two by the loyal and indefatigable Walter Bache,
who, with others, took part in a programme of his
compositions.
Liszt himself did not then play, though, when
spending subsequent evenings at home in the Lit-
tleton family circle, he almost always went to the
piano of his own accord and enchanted them with
some piece or improvisation of his own. Once he
surprised them by extemporizing marvelously upon
themes from his oratorio ^'St. Elizabeth," per-
formances of which he attended both at St. James 's
Hall and the Crystal Palace. The welcome he re-
ceived everywhere exceeded in warmth and spon-
taneity the expectations of his most fanatical
admirers. Still more did the scenes enacted dur-
ing his stay astonish this most petted and feted
179
Thirty Years of
of septuagenarians, with whom— anywhere outside
^^cold, unmusical England"— such outbursts of
enthusiasm had been the concomitants of a life-
time.
I first heard him play on April 6, when he went
to the Royal Academy to hand over to the com-
mittee of management the sum of £1100, raised
through the efforts of Walter Bache for the founda-
tion of a ^' Liszt scholarship" at that institution.
The shout of joy uttered by the students when he
sat down at the piano was something to remember.
It was followed by an intense silence. Then the
aged but still nimble fingers ran lightly over the
keys, and I was listening for the first time in my
life to Franz Liszt. To attempt to describe his
playing, after the many well-known Weimar pupils
and distinguished writers who have tried to ac-
complish that task, would be mere presumption on
my part. Even at seventy-five, Liszt was a pianist
whose powers lay beyond the pale to which sober
language or calm criticism could reach or be ap-
plied. Enough that his greatest charm seemed to
me to lie in a perfectly divine touch, and in a tone
more remarkable for its exquisitely musical qual-
ity than for its volume or dynamic force, aided
by a technique still incomparably brilliant and
superb.
Two days later Liszt proceeded to Windsor
Castle, where he was received with the utmost cor-
diality by Queen Victoria. He played several pieces
to Her Majesty, who told him that she cherished a
i8o
From a photograph by Nadar, Paris
FRANZ LISZT
Musical Life in London
vivid recollection of his playing when he last visited
London in 1841. On his return to town in the
evening, he attended a reception given in his honor
at the Grosvenor Gallery by Walter Bache. This
was in some respects the most striking function
of the series. The gathering was in every sense
a representative one, and the famous abbe, as he
went round chatting from group to group, seemed
positively radiant with happiness. To repeat his
own words, addressed to myself: ''You have so
overwhelmed me with kindness in this country that
I shall be quite sorry when the time comes for
me to leave you. ' ' The programme comprised his
' ' Angelus ' ' for strings, a chorus for female voices,
a pianoforte piece, and some songs; and finally,
amid a scene of great excitement, he himself
played the finale of Schubert's ''Divertissement
a la Hongroise ' ' and his own Hungarian rhapsody
in A minor. This glorious treat furnished the
crowning feature of a memorable evening— doubly
memorable because it was the last time but one
that Franz Liszt touched his instrument in the
presence of a public or quasi-public assemblage.
It was a very strange coincidence that the season
which witnessed Liszt's final adieu to England
should have likewise been the occasion of Anton
Eubinstein's last visit. The one left in April; the
other came in May. Wjthin a period of six weeks
we heard and saw, for the last time, the two great-
est pianists that the world had then known. The
leonine Russian gave at St. James's Hall that won-
183
Thirty Years of
derful series of ^^ Historical Recitals'' which has
since become historical in every sense— that mar-
velously comprehensive cycle wherein he illustrated
the progress and development of pianoforte music
from its earliest epoch down to the penultimate
decade of the nineteenth century. It was, alike
mentally and physically, an extraordinary tour de
force. No one save Eubinstein would have at-
tempted the Herculean feat involved in the execu-
tion of such programmes. What must the task
have been for the executant, if the bare labor of
listening was an exhausting process! But Eubin-
stein was a giant, and the considerations that ap-
plied to ordinary pianists did not arise in his case.
These recitals yielded the largest sum ever taken
at St. James's Hall for a series of seven concerts,
the gross receipts amounting to £6000 ($30,000).
An extra recital was given, and out of the proceeds
Rubinstein divided £300 ($1500) among various
charitable institutions.
The fortunes of Italian opera were now at their
lowest ebb. The season of 1885 had been al-
most wholly barren, and that of 1886 was little
better. Incapacity and indifference reached their
climax with the disgraceful and humiliating scene
that occurred at Her Majesty's Theatre on the
night of March 6, 1886. Some unknown person,
evidently without experience as a manager, had
there started a season of Italian opera with a com-
pany of incompetent artists. On the fourth night
it completely collapsed under circumstances un-
184
Musical Life in London
precedented in the annals of opera in a great
city. I quote my own description^ of what oc-
curred.
The second act of ''Faust" had concluded when the
orchestra refused to proceed further unless their salaries
were instantly paid. Their claims were partly satisfied,
and, after an interval of inordinate length, in the course
of which the audience displayed the noisiest impatience,
the opera proceeded for another act, with the accom-
paniment of about half the band. But the crisis had
only been deferred. After the curtain had fallen again
there was another long "wait," and the disturbances
recommenced. At length, in response to deafening calls,
the stage-manager came forward and announced that it
was impossible to proceed. The stage-carpenters had
refused to set the next scene, and the opera could not,
therefore, go on. A howl of derision and anger greeted
this statement; but the audience, having made up its
mind to the worst, was preparing, amid a fearful din,
to depart, when the curtain rose once more and a whole
army of stage assistants came down to the footlights with
outstretched arms and aprons, as though to implore the
charity of the house. The gestures were understood, and,
with one accord, the remaining occupants of the gallery
and upper tiers began flinging a shower of coppers and
small silver coins down on to the stage, uttering the
while all sorts of satirical and uncomplimentary epithets.
However, the occupation was too expensive to last long,
and in a minute or two this disgraceful episode came
to a termination, ending also a night of horrors that will
never be forgotten by those who witnessed it.
^"Musical Notes," by Hermann Klein, London, 1886.
185
Thirty Years of
After this Her Majesty's remained closed for over
a year. Mapleson was too much in debt to dare
start upon any fresh speculation; and, indeed,
so sore was his plight that his old friend Mme.
Patti felt constrained to come forward later in
the year and appear in a performance of ' ^ II Bar-
biere'^ at Drury Lane for the benefit of the un-
lucky impresario. Meanwhile Covent Garden was
tenantless, and it seemed in the highest degree
probable that we should experience the novelty of
a London season completely without Italian opera.
The man who prevented that calamity (if calam-
ity it may be termed) was Signor Lago, formerly
regisseur at Covent Garden under the management
of the Gyes, father and son. With the support
of the tenor Gayarre and some financial backing,
the new impresario contrived to form a capital
troupe and to give a short but respectable sea-
son of opera. Although he brought out no nov-
elties, he introduced several new artists worth
hearing— among them Ella Russell, Giulia Valda,
and Francesco D 'Andrade, all of whom made their
mark. The company also included artists like Al-
bani, Scalchi, Cepeda, Gayarre, Pandolfini, and
Maurel, with Bevignani as the conductor. Of
course, a solitary undertaking such as this could
not suffice to retrieve the fortunes of Italian opera.
It served, however, to prove that the genus, if
moributid in Great Britain, was not yet utterly
extinct, and its repetition in the following year
helped still further to reawaken public interest
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and engender the confidence which ultimately
made possible the real revival. In his way, there-
fore, Signor Lago did palpable service to the
cause of opera in London ; but he had neither the
Napoleonic spirit nor the administrative ability
and courage for carrying his mission through to
the true goal.
It is worth pausing for a moment to note how
quickly the popularity of Wagner was rising at this
period. Only the distant onlooker could perceive
how large a place the master was beginning to fill
in the hearts of English music-lovers. Failing the
opportunity for hearing his complete works upon
the stage, they had perforce to be content to hear
them, either whole or in part, upon the concert
platform. The demand for this kind of thing be-
came remarkable, and it was satisfied by the most
conservative as well as the most advanced musical
institutions. Imagine two concert performances
of ^^ Parsifal" (with very few cuts, moreover) be-
ing given in London only a couple of years after
the first production of that glorious music-drama
at Bayreuth! Yet this was actually done in the
autumn of 1884 by the Royal Choral Society, under
Joseph Barnby, with Therese Malten (the orig-
inal Kiindry), Gudehus, and Scaria in the principal
parts. And really the exacting work was very
creditably interpreted. By the way, Malten and
Gudehus were again in London in 1886, when they
sang at the Richter Concerts in long excerpts from
^ ' Tristan ' ' and ' ' Siegfried, ' ' supported by Pauline
189
Thirty Years of
Cramer and Georg Henschel. I never cared par-
ticularly for the tenor— his voice was always hard
and metallic; but Malten's noble organ was never
in grander condition, and she sang with a degree
of dramatic intensity and emotional warmth that
was absolutely thrilling.
The success of Hans Richter in England contin-
ued to be extraordinary. Indeed, after a time it
began to create something of a feeling of jealousy
among those purely British musicians who then
held, and, perhaps, not unjustly, that their country
had too long been the happy hunting-ground of
^'distinguished foreigners" generally, and of for-
eign conductors in particular. The feeling, how-
ever, did not find expression openly until after the
appointment of Richter to succeed the late Sir
Michael Costa as conductor of the Birmingham
Festival. This proceeding evoked a display of
actual resentment. For my own part, I failed to
see that it was called for in the case of a man of
such commanding genius; so I plainly stated that
I approved the appointment and could not sym-
pathize with those who objected to it. My remarks
brought me a shoal of deprecatory letters— among
them the following one from Sir Arthur Sullivan :
1 Queen's Mansions, Victoria Street, S. W.,
-rx Tv/r ^r 19th May, 1884.
Dear Mr. Klein : ^ '
In looking over the *' Sunday Times" I am greatly
grieved and disappointed to read your comments on
Herr Richter 's appointment to the conduetorship of the
Birmingham Musical Festival.
190
Musical Life in London
I think all this musical education for the English is
vain and idle, as they are not allowed the opportunity
of earning their living in their own country. Foreigners
are thrust in everywhere, and the press supports this
injustice. If we had no men who could do the work I
should say nothing — but we have.
Yours very truly,
Arthur Sullivan.
Now let me say at once that Sir Arthur Sullivan
was incapable of entertaining sentiments of mean
and petty jealousy. As conductor of the Leeds
Festival,— a post which brought all the honor and
labor that he sought in this direction,— he did not
desire Birmingham for himself. Neither did he
refuse to admit the application to his own art of
the essentially British principle of ''free trade. ^'
His motto was simply, ' ' Charity begins at home ' ' ;
and, if he felt strongly on the subject, it was be-
cause he had seen in the course of his career too
much of that ''thrusting in of foreigners" which
was the curse of English musical life during the
greater part of the nineteenth century. As prin-
cipal of the National Training Schoolfor Music,^
he had had practical experience of the difficulty
in finding lucrative employment for young native
executants. Hence his conviction that if money
were spent upon their education, it was only fair
^ Opened in 1876 with eighty-two free scholarships and car-
ried on until 1882, when it was absorbed by the larger institution
now flourishing under the title of the Eoyal College of Music.
Eugen d 'Albert was among the pupils trained at the earlier
school.
191
Thirty Years of
that they should enjoy preference over musicians
of foreign birth and training. Happily, he lived
long enough to see this patriotic aspiration in a
large measure fulfilled.
I did not reply, either by writing or in print, to
Sir Arthur Sullivan's letter, but went to see him on
the following Sunday, when we threshed the whole
matter out to our mutual satisfaction. That was
the first of the many Sunday-afternoon chats that
I enjoyed in the library of his comfortable apart-
ment in Victoria Street. He was an inveterate
cigarette-smoker, and from the moment I entered
until the time I left, a cigarette was scarcely ever
out of his mouth. He was a bright, interesting
talker, full of genuine Irish mother-wit, yet withal
earnest, emphatic, and impressive when he wished.
He was devotedly attached to a parrot that was
also a good talker, and would amuse him by in-
sisting on spelling Polly with only one ^^1.'^ At
the period to which I am referring he was already
a sufferer from the painful malady which even-
tually carried him off; but his hair had not yet
turned gray, he still wore the familiar bushy whis-
kers shown in his early portraits, and he was
robust enough to indulge frequently in his favorite
pastime, lawn-tennis.
Sullivan was not naturally what one would term
a born worker. He turned to labor not so much
for love of it as through sheer necessity. The most
successful and popular English musician of his
day, a great favorite with royalty, the enfant gate
192
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of society, the demands upon his time were so ex-
cessive that it was a marvel how he managed to
get through his long list of public and private en-
gagements. At this period, much, if not the
greater part, of his composing was done between
midnight and four or ^ve o^clock in the morning.
^^I find it impossible," he would tell me, *^to
settle down to a score during the daytime. I wait
till every one is in bed ; then I go to my desk, and
perhaps finish the instrumentation of a whole num-
ber before I finally lay down my pen. The streets
are so quiet, the atmosphere is so peaceful, and I
have no fear that I am going to be disturbed every
few minutes. ' ' The rate at which he could ^ ^ score ^ '
was prodigious; and, notably in the case of his
comic operas, he would leave certain mechanical
details till nearly the last moment, knowing that
by dint of an extra spurt he could always finish in
time.
On the other hand, there were scores over which
he lingered tenderly and long, as over a true ^ * labor
of love. ' ' One of these was ' ^ The Golden Legend. ' '
He showed it to me during one of our Sunday
chats, and pointed with pride to what he hoped
would be some novel effects in the prologue— the
wailing ^^ diminished'' chords for the violins, the
exulting clang of the bells, the blare of the brass
instruments, the poignant cry, ^^Oh, we cannot!''
uttered by the disappointed demons, and, lastly,
the contrast when the organ comes in and the monks
chant their grand hjrnan in broad unison. Novel,
195
Thirty Years of
indeed, did these effects prove in the rendering-
strokes of pure originality on the part of a com-
poser who had heretofore ventured slightly, if at
all, beyond the limits of treatment laid down in
the scores of his beloved masters, Schubert and
Mendelssohn.^ My outspoken admiration won for
me the promise of a copy of the full score of ^ ^ The
Golden Legend'' as soon as it should be published;
and in due time that copy arrived, with the com-
poser's autograph upon the title-page.
This beautiful work was written for and brought
out at the Leeds Festival of 1886. There can be no
doubt that it immensely enhanced the reputation
of the composer, whose genius as a writer of comic
operas had been brilliantly exemplified eighteen
months before by the production of ' ' The Mikado. ' '
The laurels yielded by the Savoy operas were of
necessity shared by Sir Arthur with his talented
collaborator, Mr. W. S. Gilbert. In regard to the
Leeds cantata, the composer certainly owed much to
Longfellow's lovely poem and to Mr. Joseph Ben-
nett's adroit adaptation thereof; but, this apart,
there was no one to divide with him the glory of
a supreme triumph, of an artistic achievement that
stood ^ ^ head and shoulders ' ' above all his previous
* Seven years later I saw Sir Arthur Sullivan alone in a pit
tier box, at Covent Garden, listening to a performance of ''Die
Meistersinger. ' ' After the second act I went to speak to him,
and noticed that he had before him a full score of Wagner 's work.
Presently he pointed to it and remarked: ''You see I am taking
a lesson. Well, why not? This is not only Wagner's master-
piece, but the greatest comic opera that was ever written.^'
196
Musical Life in London
efforts. The overwhelm in g success at Leeds was
the more remarkable in that it came at the close
of the greatest festival ever held there— following
new works of such calibre as Dvorak's oratorio
^^St. Ludmila," A. C. Mackenzie's cantata *'The
Story of Sayid, " and Villiers Stanford's fine
choral ballad ''The Revenge," not to speak of a
phenomenal performance by the Yorkshire cho-
rus of Bach's great Mass in B minor, never before
attempted at a provincial festival. The most tre-
mendous ovation of all, though, was that which
greeted the composer of ''The Golden Legend"
when he laid down his baton at the close of the
noble choral epilogue. Such ringing British
cheers had not been heard in that magnificent hall
since Queen Victoria opened it in the "fifties."
It was on such occasions as this that Sullivan's
native modesty stood out most conspicuously.
Only with difficulty could he be persuaded to re-
turn twice to the platform ; he complained that the
girls of the choir had pelted him with too many
nosegays the first time. When he retired to the
artists ' room I followed him, and heard his words
of gratitude to the singers— Albani, Patey, Lloyd,
and Frederic King— who had so loyally carried
out his ideas. To Mme. Patey he was even
apologetic. He said to the gifted contralto: "I
am sorry I did not write you something that was
worthier of you ;^ but I was in pain the whole time,
^ Kef erring to the air ' ' Virgin who lovest, ' ' in the last scene
but one of the cantata.
197
Thirty Years of
and I am bound to say the music exactly illustrates
the torments that I suffered." He literally told
the truth. The number in question is the only one
in the cantata that does not faithfully reflect the
spirit of the text.
If Sir Arthur Sullivan had a weakness, it was
his notable penchant for the turf. He dearly loved
to go to the races, and was a regular attendant at
the meetings held at Newmarket, Sandown, and
elsewhere. He once owned two or three race-
horses—a luxury to which his fairly wealthy po-
sition quite entitled him. But I believe I am cor-
rect in saying that he never succeeded in winning
a stake. Nor did I find him particularly success-
ful as a ^'tipster,'' though few men had so many
intimate friends among the members of the Eng-
lish Jockey Club. The last time I ever saw him
was at one of the suburban race-meetings, three
months before he died. As we walked away to-
gether he remarked sententiously, ^'I have n't
backed a single winner. My luck is out. But
never mind ; I have seen the winner of next year 's
Derby, and when the time comes I mean to back
him." That, alas! he never lived to do. Which,
perhaps, explains why Mr. William C. Whitney
won the ''blue riband" of the English turf with
Volodyovski, the horse to which Sir Arthur re-
ferred.
His. name may occur again in these pages, but
I shall have no better opportunity for paying a
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tribute to the memory of the musician whose loss
the whole world still deplores. Sullivan was a man
of singularly sweet and amiable disposition. There
was much more impulsive warmth and emotional
depth to his Irish nature than one would have
judged from his manner, which impressed most
people as ,being cold and reserved. He had un-
common powers of self-repression, and he used
them more than he really needed. As a conduc-
tor, this was no doubt to his disadvantage; yet
if magnetism were lacking, neither sympathy nor
control was, and his slightest sign was instantly
obeyed. Only those who saw him work at re-
hearsal could tell how completely he was master
of the situation. At the performance he pur-
posely avoided a demonstrative style; hence was
his beat often described as ^ * lethargic ' ' by those
who studied his manner instead of the effects that
he produced.
And, after all, modesty was the true secret of
his hatred of display. Success never engendered
an overwhelming confidence in self, and to the very
last it pleased him to be assured that he had done
something worthy of his name and talent. To
prove this I cannot do better than reproduce a let-
ter which he wrote me only a year before his death
—premising that the opera mentioned was *^The
Eose of Persia, ' ' and that he had a short time pre-
viously resigned his position as conductor of the
Leeds Festival:
20I
Thirty Years of
1 Queen's Mansions, Victoria Street, S. W.,
19 November, 1899.
Dear Klein:
O si sic omnes! I am still young enough to be pleased
at reading (in real live print, mind you!) a few kind
words written in a kindly spirit such as I have just read
in the ' ' Sunday Times. " ^
To-day I am just out of prison, having finished the
score of the new opera at 3.15 a.m., and I feel strange
at having nothing to do except rehearsing. By the way,
if you want to know what the music, pure and simple, is
like, you will find a full rehearsal of band and voices
going on at St. Andrew's Hall [Wells Street, London]
on Wednesday next, from 11 a.m. onwards.
About Leeds — I could tell you much, but cannot write
it. As H. K. suggests, I hope they won't take a foreigner
as my successor. If they do, it will be a terrible disap-
pointment to someone.
Ever yours sincerely,
Arthur Sullivan.
The Leeds conductorship was eventually bestowed
upon Sir C. Villiers Stanford. There was never,
indeed, much danger of the ^* hated foreigner '^ be-
ing appointed. Probably the only conductor, not
an Englishman by birth, who would have stood a
chance was Georg Henschel, and he, so far as I
am aware, was not among the candidates for the
vacant position.
More than a quarter of a century has passed
^ This refers to a notice of his setting of Eudyard Kipling's
poem ' ' The Absent-minded Beggar. ' '
202
Musical Life in London
since Mr. Henschel made his debut in England, and
his wide circle of friends there must long ago have
made up their minds to regard him in the light
of a British subject. When he first came I saw a
good deal of him, and, curiously enough, his late
gifted wife, then Miss Lillian Bailey, lived oppo-
site our house in Bentinck Street, where we could
hear by the hour her sweet, penetrating tones as
she labored steadfastly at those old florid Italian
airs, the study of which furnishes the sole true
medium for the acquisition of a fine vocal tech-
nique. After he had terminated his connection with
the Boston Symphony Concerts, Mr. Henschel per-
manently settled down in London, and there for
many years he shared the principal concert work
with the eminent and evergreen barytone, Charles
Santley. As singer, as composer, as conductor, as
accompanist, and as teacher, Henschel long ago
demonstrated his remarkable talent and his even
more extraordinary versatility. In a word, he has
fairly earned the right to be called the ' ' Admirable
Crichton ' ' of his art.
In the autumn of 1886, Mr. Henschel started the
enterprise known as the London Symphony Con-
certs, which he carried on with conspicuous skill
for several years. Unfortunately, their pecuniary
results offered an inadequate return for the care
and energy that were bestowed upon the rendering
of a singularly eclectic and interesting series of
programmes. Truth to tell, Mr. Henschel never
figured in the public mind as a great or even a
203
Musical Life in London
strong conductor. His readings of the classical
masterpieces might be conscientious and artistic,
but tliey lacked individuality, force, and warmth.
On the other hand, the vocal recitals which he
gave with the aid of his accomplished wife never
failed to attract, by virtue of the unique interpre-
tative charm with which the two singers invested
their delightful selections.
204
I'luui 11 plintoKniiili by lUr I cl"ii Mrr, .,,<, njiic .V, niciloKiai.liic ( ■..nii>:ni> . l.iMHtcd
SIR AUGUSTUS HARRIS
CHAPTER X
Augustus Harris and Italian opera— An ambitious scheme— To
France and Spain in search of artists— Engaging the De
Reszkes— The great tenor's early career — Madrid and
MancineUi— An amateur bull-fight— Seville— Opening of the
Drury Lane season— Jean de Reszke's triumph— A bary-
tone's temper.
EARLY in the spring of 1887, I was lunching
one day with Augustus Harris at the old
Albion Restaurant, opposite Drury Lane Theatre.^
As a rule, the busy manager allowed himself, at
most, twenty minutes for his midday meal (a year
or two later he allowed himself no lunch at all) ;
but on this particular day he lingered over his cof-
fee, called for cigars, and proceeded to deliver him-
self of what was, to me, a wholly unexpected piece
of news. Leaning back against the upright wooden
partition which separated the tables in the old-
fashioned dining-room, and with a bright, familiar
gleam in his penetrating eyes, he said :
* The resort, in the days before theatrical clubs existed, of all
the best-known actors and managers in London. The walls of
the smoking-parlor were hung with portraits of Sarah Siddons,
John Philip Kemble, Charles Kemble, Edmund Kean, Macready,
and other histrionic celebrities of the century. What became of
the pictures I cannot say; but the place, if not yet pulled down,
has been used for some years as a kind of warehouse.
10
207
Thirty Years of
''Klein, I have made up my mind to do some-
thing big.''
This was not very astonishing. Augustus Harris
was always doing ''something big.'' His panto-
mime and autumn dramas were the very biggest
things of their kind ; and in the summer of the pre-
vious year he had mounted a new comic opera by
Herve, entitled "Frivoli," which was at once the
costliest spectacle and the most dismal failure of
his managerial career. This recollection suggested
a rather cruel expression of hope on my part that
he did not intend going in for more French opera-
bouff e. He smiled and shook his head :
" No ; it is to be the real thing this time. What
I am going to do is to give a month of Italian
opera on a large scale at Dury Lane, at the height
of the London season!"
Still smiling, Harris stared hard at me, to judge
the effect of his words. I was genuinely surprised,
and told him so. Did he not think he had sufficient
responsibilities already without launching his ship
upon the treacherous waters of Italian opera, which
had wrecked one English impresario after another,
and profited none!
' ' I know. But why should I suffer the same fate 1
Why should not opera pay, provided it be well
done? All this talk about Italian opera being
'moribund' is merely because the management of
it has been going from bad to worse, because so-
ciety is no longer interested and the public has
lost confidence. Look at what Carl Rosa has done
208
Musical Life in London
and is doing for English opera ! He has won over
the public, and makes money in the provinces, if
he can't in London. See what Lago did last year
at Covent Garden with what I consider a mediocre
company and limited resources ! Economy helped
him out, it is true; but at least he proved that
Italian opera was still gasping! He is going to
try again this year ; this time, however, I mean to
show him that ^ opera on the cheap' is not what
London actually wants. He may get the old fogies
and habitues at Covent Garden; I intend to draw
the real aristocracy to Drury Lane. ' '
I saw that he was serious, and I realized that
his conclusions, to some extent, were just. Grand
opera in its noblest form, of whatever school or
language, if adequately presented, could not die
in England any more than in other countries of
equivalent musical calibre. And England, I may
sav, is now not half so ^ ^ unmusical " as it is habitu-
ally depicted. Without the aid of a state sub-
vention, opera upon a ^^ grand" scale all the year
round might be impossible. But not even for three
months in the year would society, or, indeed, any
section of the public, be willing to purchase guinea
stalls and pay high prices all rour^d for perform-
ances of only moderate excellence, supported by
two or three * ' stars ' ' and an otherwise second-rate
personnel. I agreed that Lago could not go on
long under present conditions, and I told my com-
panion that I thought he might stand a chance if
he could contrive to get together a strong company.
2og
Thirty Years of
^^ There/' said Harris, ^4s where you can be of
service to me, if you care to/' I replied that in
such a good cause I should be only too delighted
to assist him in every possible way. ^'Then," he
continued, ^^come abroad with me at Easter. I
have already prepared the ground in several di-
rections. I have even engaged my conductor— a
man quite unknown, but said to be very clever—
Luigi Mancinelli. He is now conducting at Ma-
drid, and I want you to go there with me to listen
to some artists whom he has recommended." I
said that I would do so with the utmost pleasure.
Then suddenly an idea occurred to me, and I con-
tinued :
^^I know of a splendid tenor for you— if you can
get him. He sang here years ago as a barytone,
but is really a tenor, and I heard him last summer
at the Paris Opera in ^Le Cid.' He has a mag-
nificent voice and is a thorough artist. ' '
*^You mean Jean de Reszke,'' broke in Harris.
^^I have been told about him, but have not quite
decided what to do.''
*^ Don't hesitate. He will make a great hit here
now; and his brother Edouard, who has already
sung at Covent Garden and has the finest bass voice
in the world, of course will have to come too."
**I shall see if I can get them both," said the new
impresario, and with that we parted.
In less than a fortnight the two brothers were
engaged— Jean at £100 ($500) a night, and Edou-
ard at £320 ($1600) a month— salaries which they
2 lO
Musical Life in London
were then well content to accept.^ In such fashion
did the preparations for the campaign commence,
quietly and without fuss. ' For the moment every-
thing was kept secret. The pantomime had not
yet run its course, and there was still a four weeks '
Carl Rosa season to be held at Drury Lane during
the month of May. Augustus Harris naturally de-
sired, therefore, that the public should not be in-
formed until his plans were more matured. At
Easter we started together for Paris, en route for
Spain.
Little did I then dream that the mission upon
which we were setting out was to have results of
far-reaching magnitude; that it was to affect the
whole future of opera in England, and also in
an appreciable degree the nature and methods of
operatic enterprise in the United States. Still less
did I imagine that the words which turned the
balance in favor of the engagement of Jean de
Reszke were also to mark the turning-point in the
singular career of that illustrious artist— to lift
him from the sluggish waters of the stream of
^ It has been asserted that M. Jean de Reszke 's services were
offered in 1886 to Signer Lago at a very moderate salary, and
refused. There is good reason to doubt the accuracy of that
statement. It is possible, of course, that some musical agent in
London or Paris did offer to try to secure the new tenor for
Signor Lago; but if so, it was not done at M. de Reszke 's instiga-
tion. And in any case the ''refusal" would not have come so
much from the impresario as from Signor Gayarre, who was at
the back of the concern, and would assuredly have objected to
the engagement of an artist who might prove a formidable rival
to himself.
2 11
Thirty Years of
Parisian operatic life; to pave the way for his
brilliant rise to fame in the two great English-
speaking lands; and to lay the foundation of a
friendship that should enable me materially to
aid in kindling those Wagnerian aspirations which
have borne such precious and universally cher-
ished fruit.
The position of affairs should now be tolerably
clear to the reader. I have traced the influence of
Carl Rosa upon Augustus Harris through the dark
period that followed upon the collapse of the Gye
regime. I have demonstrated the mighty power
that was wielded by Wagnerian and German opera
in the education both of the managers and the
music-loving communities for whom they catered.
In London, at least, the hour for the operatic
renaissance had arrived, and with it the man. In
America, no doubt, the time for reaping the new
harvest was also near at hand. Mapleson, who
had all but reached the end of his tether at home,
could no longer send to America Italian compa-
nies worthy of attention. The sole European at-
traction upon whom an American manager could
rely with certainty was Mme. Patti— a name to
conjure with any time these forty years— a genius
whose light gives no sign even now of growing
dim. On the other hand, German opera, thanks
to the crusade so bravely led by Dr. Leopold Dam-
rosch,* had become firmly established in New York,
and the love of Wagner had entered even more
.deeply into the hearts of the people there than
212
Musical Life in London
in London. Consequently, the time was ripe for
a bolder and more extended movement on both
sides of the Atlantic. In due course it came.
But to return to our journey. Augustus Harris
made the briefest possible stay in Paris. We ar-
rived in the morning and called upon Choudens,
the publisher, to arrange for the exclusive English
rights, as far as they could be secured, of certain
popular French operas. This done, we took break-
fast with M. and Mme. Edouard de Reszke and
their family, including, of course, Jean, then a
lively bachelor of less than forty. Edouard re-
membered me at once, and reminded me of our
last merry meeting at the dinner given by Pauline
Lucca.
The elder brother made a great impression both
upon Harris and myself. Already an enormous fa-
vorite in Paris, Jean de Reszke seemed to be wholly
free from affectation or conceit; in a word, a de-
lightful man and a thorough gentleman. His con-
versation was marked by ease and freedom, and it
offered a fascinating combination of humor and in-
tellectuality. He then spoke very little German
and still less English, though as a boy he had
studied both languages. French and Italian, of
course, he spoke fluently; indeed, in the former
tongue his accent was so pure and his diction so
correct that, had I not known him to be a Pole, I
should readily have taken him for a Parisian.
The arrangements between Jean de Reszke and
his new impresario were quickly settled. He would
213
Thirty Years of
make his appearance on the opening night in
^ ^ Aida, ' ' and follow this np as quickly as possible
by singing Lohengrin (in Italian) for the first time
on any stage. He realized that London had known
him as a barytone, and he was anxious to make
manifest without delay that he was a genuine tenor.
I asked him how the mistake had first arisen.
^*It is difficult to say/' he replied. *^We were
always a musical family, and accustomed to attend
operatic performances whenever there were any
going on in Warsaw. My parents were both very
musical, and my mother had a fine soprano voice.
I remember once, in Warsaw, her singing the duet
from ^Semiramide' with Trebelli. When I was
only fifteen I began to take lessons from Ciaffei,
an old tenor, who was a professor at the Conserva-
toire at Warsaw. He decided that I was a bary-
tone, and what part do you think he gave me to
study first! — Leporello! Notwithstanding this, I
always had good high notes. When I made my
debut at the Fenice at Venice, in 1874, in the *Fa-
vorita, ' I finished up the cahalletta with a ringing
A natural. The real test, of course, lies in the capa-
city for sustaining the tessitura. A barytone may
be able to bring out a B flat or even a B natural,
but no example has yet been known of a barytone
who was capable of sustaining the tenor tessitura
through long and heavy roles. The thing is a rank
impossibility. ' '
I inquired how long he had given himself to ef-
fect the necessary change of method.
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Musical Life in London
* ' Two years, of which I spent part in Paris and
part in Poland. That was from 1877 to 1879. I
made my reappearance at Madrid as Roberto, and
was immediately hailed as a real tenore rohusto.
I assure you I found it much more easy and com-
fortable than singing barytone. My voice at the
end of the performance felt a great deal less fa-
tigued. But I still had to work very, very hard to
feel myself thoroughly equipped at all points.
Then there came an offer to appear here at the
Italiens, and I sang my first French role when I
created John the Baptist in ^Herodiade' four years
ago."
He expressed his regret that we could not re-
main to hear him in ^ ' Le Prophete, ' ' which he con-
sidered his most successful opera in Paris. For my
own part, I should have liked it above all things;
but Augustus Harris— one of the most restless
specimens of concentrated nervous energy that ever
lived— had fully determined to proceed forthwith
to Madrid, and no amount of persuasion could de-
ter him from leaving Paris that same night. We
accordingly bade the brothers ^*au revoir,'' and
looked forward to meeting them again in London
early in June. Thirty-six hours later we were
safely installed in the Spanish capital.
Our first business was to find Signor Mancinelli.
He lived in a house overlooking some public gar-
dens not far from the royal palace, and on the
way thither Harris confided to me for the first
time that he was not quite sure whether he ought
217
Thirty Years of
to have engaged the man we were then going to see,
or his brother, Marino Mancinelli, who was the con-
ductor at the Lisbon Opera-house, and, according
to some people, the more gifted of the two. On
this point I was happily able to reassure my friend.
I had not seen both brothers ; but, when at Bologna
in 1879, I had seen Luigi Mancinelli direct at the
Teatro Comunale a remarkably fine performance
of Gounod's ^' Faust" (with a Covent Garden so-
prano. Mile. TuroUa, as Margherita), and I had
considered him a chef-d^orchestre of the first order.
Harris was able quickly to confirm this opinion
for himself by means of a representation of the
selfsame work at the Royal Opera-house.
The season in Madrid was fast approaching its
termination. The audiences, however, were still
tolerably brilliant, and the two infantas, aunts of
the present King of Spain, then a baby in arms,
were present nearly every evening. Queen Chris-
tina, naturally, did not go to the opera; but by a
welcome chance I saw her one day at the hotel
where we were staying in the Puerta del Sol. The
queen-regent, who was attired in deep mourning,
came to the hotel for the purpose of visiting some
distinguished Russian personage whose name I
have now forgotten; and, as Harris and I bowed
low when she passed down the stairs. Her Majesty
returned our salute with a gracious smile.
Shortly after our arrival we went to pay our
respects to the British ambassador. Sir Clare Ford,
who received the Drury Lane manager with marked
218
Musical Life in London
cordiality. He invited us to a dejeuner in honor of
some of the opera artists, among the guests being
the late Lord Beaconsfield ^s popular secretary, Lord
Kowton, who had not long been raised to the peer-
age. We met, among others, Gayarre; Battistini,
the barytone ; Mme. Kupf er-Berger, a well-known
dramatic soprano; and Guerrina Fabbri, the con-
tralto,— all of whom were subsequently engaged for
London, with the exception of Gayarre, who was,
as a matter of course, to be once more the principal
tenor of Lago's season at Covent Garden. In ad-
dition to these, a new light tenor, De Lucia, was
also secured; and altogether, as far as the men
were concerned, there was ample reason to be con-
tent with the results of our visit. As regards the
prime donne I was not equally impressed. Neither
the two above named, nor two Italian sopranos
recommended by Mancinelli (who then had no
experience of English audiences), proved to be
suited to the London operatic boards.
One of the many attentions bestowed upon us
by the ambassador was to send us tickets for a
private bull-fight given by the Duchess de Alba in
the great bull-ring at Madrid. I could not confess
to an overwhelming desire to witness one of these
spectacles, but I was naturally curious ; while Au-
gustus Harris was positively anxious to see one,
in order, as he explained, to note the necessary
points for a realistic production of the last act of
*^ Carmen." This particular bull-fight, it seemed,
was an extremely select annual affair, to which the
219
Thirty Years of
Duchess invited all her friends, and in which the
performers, from the matador down to the humblest
banderillero, consisted of the fine fleur of the youth-
ful aristocracy of Spain. They made a brave show,
did these young fellows, in their handsome cos-
tumes. The programmes were printed upon yellow
satin, and the select assemblage, though not nearly
large enough to fill the huge galleries of the Plaza
de Toros, comprised some of the most fashionable
families in Madrid.
Among the ladies present was that fine artist
Mme. Christine Nilsson, who a few months before
had become the Countess Casa de Miranda. She
confided to me that she did not really care for bull-
fights, and had come solely in order to please the
Count— a statement fully to be credited from the
manner in which she constantly used her fan to
shut out the proceedings in the arena from her
view. From the standpoint of sport, however,
the affair was a dire failure. The bulls refused to
show fight, and the amateur matadors were never
exposed to any risk from which their agility as
runners could not speedily have removed them.
It was not at this absurd function that Augus-
tus Harris obtained the real suggestions for the
projected revival of ''Carmen." We went subse-
quently to one of the regular bull-fights at the same
amphitheatre, and at this he made plentiful notes
for the* procession of the Alcade, the picadors on
horseback, and the group of banderilleros, for all
of whom he ordered real and costly Sx)anish cos-
2 20
Musical Life in London
tumes. He even arranged for an exact copy of the
curious hurdle-like contrivance, drawn by three
ponies, which is employed in dragging the bodies
of the dead horses and bulls out of the arena. Not
satisfied with this, we paid a twenty-four hours ^
visit to Seville in order to obtain touches of the
true couleur locale. We went to the great cigar
and cigarette factory where Carmen is supposed
to conduct herself with so much impropriety. We
obtained photographs of the Giralda Tower; we
sketched the entrance to the Plaza de Toros; and
we gathered together every authentic detail that it
was possible to procure for uniforms, costumes,
and scenery. Thus it was that the mise en scene
of ^^ Carmen,'' as mounted by Augustus Harris,
proved to be by far the most accurate and pictur-
esque that had ever been vouchsafed to Bizet's
opera.
I must not dwell longer upon the events of this
interesting Spanish trip ; nor is it necessary to de-
scribe in further detail the preparations for the
Drury Lane Italian season. Enough to say that
the troupe finally collected by Augustus Harris
was the strongest heard in London for several
years. The opening representation of ^^Aida" on
June 13, with brand-new costumes and fresh
scenery expressly imported from Italy, fairly took
critics and opera-goers by surprise. The triumph
of Jean de Eeszke was instantaneous and complete.
Here, at last, was the great tenor for whom the
world had been waiting since the death of Giuglini
22 1
Thirty Years of
and the retirement of Mario ! Edouard de Reszke
was unable to leave Paris in time for this per-
formance, but he arrived later in the month, and
worthily supported his brother on their debuts in
^ ^ Lohengrin/ ' On the whole, despite Mme. Kup-
fer-Berger^s vocal shortcomings as Aida and Elsa,
the rendering of both Verdi 's and Wagner 's operas
aroused the admiration of experts; while the in-
spiring zeal and magnetism of Luigi Mancinelli
were readily recognized.
Soon London began to talk. It was a new thing
to find a series of operas placed nightly upon the
stage with the highest care and efficiency, and dis-
tinguished not only by a rare liberality in the
mounting, but by the improving touches of a stage-
manager courageous enough to sweep away the
more absurd anachronisms that disfigure the tradi-
tions of Italian opera, and capable of replacing
them with artistic and appropriate ideas of his
own. Naturally the audiences did not numerically
realize Harris's hopes. His losses, especially dur-
ing the first fortnight of his four weeks' season,
amounted to many thousands of pounds. But any
comparison between the work that he was doing
and the dull representations at Co vent Garden, or
the still more slipshod performances at Her Ma-
jesty's,^ was all in favor of the new impresario.
^ HerQ Mapleson was making one of his expiring efforts. Its
only noteworthy features were a revival of "Fidelio" with Lilli
Lehmann, now heard for the first time in one of her great parts;
and a solitary appearance of Patti in ' ' La Traviata. ' ' But the
public refused to respond, and, no more capital being available,
the ill-starred campaign quickly ended.
222
Musical Life in London
The Prince and Princess of Wales, who had at once
become ardent admirers of Jean de Reszke, came
several times to hear him. By degrees society fol-
lowed, more suo, the royal example ; and, just when
the brief campaign was reaching its close, people
began to perceive that Italian opera, so called, as
given at Drury Lane, was a still vital and attrac-
tive art-prodnct.
But the successes of the season were not all for
the Polish brothers. Among the procession of old
and new friends that traversed the scene were some
very notable figures. I recall an exceedingly good
performance of ^'Don Giovanni" with Maurel as
the Don, Minnie Hauk as Zerlina, and Lillian
Nordica (little more than a debutante, and not yet
the favorite that she was to become later) as Donna
Elvira. I remember the debuts of Marie Engle as
Adalgisa, of Sigrid Arnoldson as Rosina, of Amelia
Groll as Donna Anna, of De Lucia as Alfredo, of
Battistini as Rigoletto, and of Navarrini as Ramfis.
Again, there was Del Puente, sympathetic as ever,
in his old parts of Escamillo and Germont pere;
while the veteran barytone Pandolfini was still
fine as Amonasro, which role he was the first to
sing at Milan and Paris. Glancing at these names,
American readers will be able to judge for them-
selves not only of the extraordinary merit of the
new ensemble, but of the extent to which it em-
braced the practically ''untried'' talent that was
to constitute in after years the best part of the
brilliant constellation revolving in their own oper-
atic firmament.
223
Thirty Years of
The proudest night of the month for Harris was
that on which he revived ^^Les Huguenots'' with
a splendid cast, and in such fashion as to make
old habitues declare that ^'the son had beaten
the father at his own game." Imagine Jean de
Reszke at this time as Raoul! Always remarkable
for its refinement, distinction, and passionate
warmth, his impersonation was just then peculiarly
imbued with the spirit of the true Meyerbeer school.
Alike in a vocal and a histrionic sense, it was su-
premely great. His *' velvety" tones, fresh, clear,
and mellow as a bell, were emitted with an un-
sparing freedom that would thrill the listener not
once, but twenty times, in the course of a single
scene. There was no ^ ^ saving up ' ' for the last act
then; it was ^^laissez aller" throughout, with
plenty to spare at the finish. And what tender-
ness, withal, in that famous grand duet of the
fourth act! Not Mario himself had phrased the
*'Tu m'ami, tu m'ami!" (this was still an Italian
performance) with a greater wealth of delicious
surprise and pent-up adoration. Little wonder
that Nordica nearly lost her head through ner-
vousness and emotion. It was the very first time
she sang Valentine; she had studied the part
in less than a week, and for a young, inexpe-
rienced artist,— so youthful, so pretty, so win-
ning that she fascinated others beside Raoul,—
her achievement was in the highest degree credi-
table. The fifth act, generally suppressed in Eng-
land, was on this occasion duly given, but the
224
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MAUREL
AS DON GIOVANNI
Musical Life in London
noise of the firing and the smoke from the gun-
powder proved too much even for Augustus
Harris. It was subsequently omitted, as usual.
Thanks to the vagaries of one of the artists, this
memorable performance came near to not being
given at all. The opera was to have begun at eight
o ^clock, but it was quite a quarter past before Man-
cinelli took his place in the orchestra. Then an-
other wait ensued. Thinking there must be some-
thing amiss, I went behind the scenes to make in-
quiries. I was informed that there was trouble
with the principal barytone, and that if I went to
his room I should find Mr. Harris there. I hur-
ried to the dressing-room, and found that a lively
dispute was going on between artist and manager.
The latter, as usual in an emergency, was calm,
self-possessed, and apparently in the best of tem-
pers; the singer was gesticulating wildly and
nearly beside himself with rage. I ventured to
ask what was the matter.
^ ^ Matter ! ^ ' shouted the indignant barytone. * ^ Do
you see this specimen of an Englidi-made costume ?
Did you ever gaze upon such a disgraceful fit!
How am I supposed to play a fastidious gentleman
like Nevers, and go upon the stage in a doublet
that his valet would have declined to put on *? Look
at this right sleeve! It fits so abominably that I
have had to tear it clean away at the shoulder to
make it hang decently!''
Looking closely at the garment, I did indeed per-
ceive that it was torn at the seam under the arm ;
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but otherwise there was nothing wrong with it.
A richer and handsomer doublet no reasonable
Comte de Nevers could have desired to wear, and
I told the gentleman what I thought. He flung him-
self into a chair, and declared that he positively
refused to go on the stage in such a costume.
Matters were now becoming rather serious. In
the next room I could hear Jean de Reszke and
Edouard getting their respective voices into trim
by the execution of aerial flights and descents into
the depths below. Moreover, I could hear the au-
dience in the distance stamping and clapping their
hands with impatience. I turned to Harris, and
asked him whether another Nevers was available.
*'I have sent for Del Puente,'' he replied, ^'but
I am not sure that we shall be able to find him.^'
Then, struck by a sudden idea, Harris addressed
himself once more to the recalcitrant barytone:
*^ Listen, monsieur. Your complaint about this
costume is merely a bit of caprice. It fits you per-
fectly well; and even though you have torn the
sleeve, a pin or two will easily put that right. I
now ask you to let this performance commence. If
you do not, I shall go before the curtain and tell
the audience exactly why it is that they are being
kept waiting.''
I added a word to the effect that I should not
fail to give my colleagues of the press a precise
and particular account of what had occurred, un-
less the artist instantly put an end to a situation
that was at once ridiculous and offensive to the
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public. The effect of this double shaft was elec-
trical. A moment later the irate singer had risen
and called for pins, and the incident was closed.
Less than half a dozen people knew what had
happened, for the secret of the delay was not
allowed to leak out. The opera began, without
comment, half an hour late, and, thanks to the
Comte de Nevers and the fifth act, it was not over
until nearly one o'clock in the morning.
229
CHAPTER XI
The Operatic Eenaissance— Royalty and society interested— A
brilliant Co vent Garden season— Debut of Melba— The fa-
mous '^French Trio": their life in London— A vocal duel—
Bayreuth in the first " Meistersinger " year— A visit to Ems
and its consequences.
SIR ARTHUR SULLIVAN once described an
English triennial festival as a kind of musical
boa-constrictor which so overfed itself during a
given week that it required the whole of the inter-
vening three years to go through the operation of
digesting the feast. Some such period of rest for
the purpose of assimilation would appear to have
been needed by the metropolis after the Gargantuan
operatic banquet which it enjoyed during the sum-
mer of 1887. At any rate, ten consecutive months
elapsed before serious opera was again heard there.
Even Carl Rosa kept severely in the provinces,
contenting himself with a revival of Balfe's opera,
* ^ The Puritan 's Daughter, ' ' and producing, for the
first time in English, Meyerbeer's ^^L'Etoile du
Nord'' and Halevy's ^^La Juive.'' The annual
visit to Drury Lane had now become, indeed, a
thing of the past.
But in the meantime Augustus Harris was not
idle. Quick to perceive the effect that his brilliant
230 .
Copyright by A. UiipouL, >■. \ ,
MELBA
AS MARGUERITE
Musical Life in London
little season had created, and feeling pretty sure
that he had frightened all his rivals out of the
field, he set about preparing the ground for still
more extended operations in the near future. His
heavy loss over the initial experiment did not
trouble him. ^^I shall recoup myself,'^ he said,
*^with the aid of society. I shall work this time
upon a totally different plan. Instead of burden-
ing myself with the whole responsibility, I shall
have the support of the leaders of fashion and be
guaranteed a big subscription before I start. ' ' This
sounded both wise and promising; but I asked,
^^Do you expect the leaders of fashion and their
following to come to Drury LaneT' *' Certainly
not," was Harris's reply. ''I have every inten-
tion, all being well, of taking Covent Garden at the
earliest practicable date, and directing the regular
season of the ^Eoyal Italian Opera' there next
summer. ' '
The secret of the manager's ambition was out
at last. He had only used his own theatre as the
stepping-stone. He had wanted to prove that he
was equal to the task; and, with such material as
he could now command, the rest seemed compara-
tively easy. However, there was an enormous
amount of work yet to be done. He needed all his
friends to help him in the good cause; and I, for
one, earnestly begged him to consider me always
at his disposal. My duties as a critic had not so
far proved an obstacle to the exercise of friendly
offices, freely (and, of course, gratuitously) vouch-
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safed; nor had my interest in the enterprise pre-
vented me from writing about every performance
with joerf ect impartiality. Harris knew this as well
as I did, and his thanks, both then and always,
were expressed with the utmost heartiness.
But for the accomplishment of the next im-
portant step, Augustus Harris owed nearly every-
thing to the enthusiasm and influence of Lady de
Grey and Lady Charles Beresf ord. These popular
women, veritable pillars of society, had already
watched with something more than superficial in-
terest the progress of the Drury Lane experiment.
They were devoted lovers of opera, and intense
admirers as well as personal friends of the de
Reszkes. What more natural than that they should
desire to see the personnel of the Harris establish-
ment transferred to its proper home, shining in a
worthy atmosphere amid fitting and congenial
surroundings? All the impresario stipulated was
that a certain number of boxes should be sub-
scribed for. This was enough for the two ladies.
With the aid of Mr. Harry V. Higgins, brother-in-
law of Lady de Grey, they immediately began the
hunt for subscribers, restricting their canvass, of
course, to such members of the ^^ smart set" as
would be acceptable to themselves and their
friends; and this, of course, was only an added
inducement to join it. The requisite number of
boxes were speedily taken up, and by a certain
date the fair canvassers went to Mr. Harris with
their list.
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Musical Life in London
Meanwhile the astute manager must have got
wind of the success that was attending the search.
At any rate, he suddenly discovered that he had
been too modest in his demands. It began to occur
to him that Covent Garden Theatre and its con-
tents, including piles of well-worn costumes and
stacks of shabby, useless scenery, were now get-
ting into an extremely dilapidated condition, and
that in all probability it would cost him an outlay
of two or three thousand pounds to renovate the
opera-house sufficiently for occupation by a high-
class troupe and an aristocratic ahonnement. He
was afraid that unless so many more boxes were
subscribed for, he would not dare venture to lease
the theatre. Lady de Grey and Lady Charles Beres-
ford obligingly saw the reasonableness of the re-
quest, and tried again— to such good purpose that
within a few hours nearly all of the boxes on
the grand and pit tiers were definitely allotted.
This time Harris simply beamed with delight.
He saw himself the proud impresario of Covent
Garden, with the largest subscription known for
years; and that, for the moment, may be said
to have constituted the summit of his ambitions.
During the extensive preparations which now en-
sued, London, as I have already hinted, troubled
itself little about opera. Music-lovers found ample
food for enjoyment in their ^'Pops,'' at which
Clara Schumann, Joachim, Neruda, Charles Halle,
Fanny Davies (now the most popular English
pianist of her sex), and Piatti were the leading
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lights. They took pleasure in listening to fresh
examples of English talent, such as Cowen's fine
^^Scandinavian'' symphony, his oratorio ^^Ruth,''
and his cantata ^^The Sleeping Beauty"; Stan-
ford's ^^ Irish" symphony; Parry's oratorio ^^ Ju-
dith"; J. F. Bridge's cantata ^ ^ Callirhoe " ; Stain-
er's * ^ Crucifixion " ; and Hamish MacCunn's
overture ^^The Land of the Mountain and the
Flood." The Philharmonic Society gave a most
interesting season, with Frederic Cowen (vice Sir
Arthur Sullivan) as conductor. Mme. Schumann
played at the opening concert; and subsequently
two famous masters, Edvard Grieg and Peter
Iljitsch Tschaikovsky, made their first appear-
ances in England, the former playing his concerto
in A minor, while the latter conducted his seren-
ade for strings and the variations from his third
orchestral suite. The wonderful boy pianists,
Josef Hofmann and Otto Hegner, made their
London debuts; and Hans von Biilow, returning
after a six years' absence, executed his ^^Bee-
thoven Cyclus" at what proved to be his last
series of performances in an English concert-
room. Von Biilow was a great pianist, but a
much greater conductor.
On Monday, May 14, Augustus Harris inau-
gurated his first Covent Garden season.^ The as-
^ I may jnention that the impresario owed a great deal, during
his entire period of operatic management, to the loyal and de-
voted services of his *' right-hand man" and alter ego, Mr. Fred
G. Latham, who subsequently, for several years, exercised simi-
lar functions in America for Mr. Maurice Grau.
236
Musical Life in London
pect of the house offered the strongest possible
contrast to the records of the preceding ten years.
The Prince and Princess of Wales headed one of
those brilliant assemblages that were formerly as-
sociated only with ^^Patti nights," and altogether
there was abundant evidence that, with the re-
awakening of an exalted social interest, the for-
tunes of the ^ ^ Royal Italian Opera' ' were once more
in the ascendant. The de Reszkes did not appear
at the outset. With wise diplomacy, the impre-
sario kept back for a space his strong trump card,
and in the interim showed his new subscribers that
he possessed alike the ability and the resources for
presenting their favorite operas with attractive en-
sembles and fresh features of stage treatment. In
^ ^ Lucrezia, ' ' the opening opera, the perennial Tre-
belli filled her old part of Maffio Orsini; in ^^ Car-
men'' the gipsy was impersonated for the first
time by Nordica; a successful debut was made as
Michaela by Marguerite Macintyre, a pupil of
Manuel Garcia; in ^^La Traviata" Ella Russell
appeared; in ^^ Faust" Albani and Trebelli; in
^^Don Giovanni" Sigrid Arnoldson, Fiirsch-Madi,
and D'Andrade.
Then, on the 24th, was given ' ' Lucia di Lammer-
moor," for the debut at Covent Garden of a new
light soprano who had been winning laurels
at the Brussels Monnaie. This was Mme. Melba.
For months we had been reading wonderful
accounts of Mme. Marches! 's Australian pupil,
and curiosity concerning her vocal powers had been
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Thirty Years of
roused to a high pitch. It was not actually her first
appearance before a London audience. She had
sung two years before, under her own name of
Mrs. Nellie Armstrong, at a concert at Prince's
Hall (now the Prince's Restaurant in Piccadilly) ;
but, beyond admiring the quality of her voice, I
had not been much impressed by her efforts on that
occasion. Augustus Harris also heard her in 1886
at the annual dinner of the Royal General The-
atrical Fund, at which he presided. She had been
introduced by Mr. Wilhelm Ganz, and sang, of
course without fee, the ^^Ave Maria'' of Gounod.
But it was not until nearly a year later that Harris
was preparing his Drury Lane season, and then,
naturally, he gave no thought to *'Mrs. Arm-
strong," who was working hard with Marches! in
Paris.^
Mme. Melba's initial success at Covent Garden
was not wholly unequivocal. The audience, truly,
^ In the "Daily News" (London) my esteemed colleague Percy
Betts recently gave the following amusing account of the narrow
escape that Mme. Melba had of being engaged for English opera
during her visit to London in 1886: ''Mr, Ganz, very naturally,
thought a great deal of her voice, and promised to introduce her
to Carl Eosa. Mme. Melba at that time was extremely anxious
to go upon the operatic stage in this country rather than in
Paris, for she was diffident as to her French accent. It was there-
fore practically arranged that if he approved of her voice Carl
Eosa should engage her for five years, on the sort of sliding scale
which he at that time adopted; although the terms were very
moderate' indeed. An appointment was made for a certain day
and hour at Mr. Ganz's house, and Carl Eosa scribbled a note on
his shirt sleeve. The busy impresario doubtless forgot that,
owing to the exigencies of the laundry, unless a note pencilled
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went into raptures and gave her an enthusiastic
reception. But in the light of calmer judgment
the critics took exception to certain *^ manner-
isms'^ of style; and I, for one, while noting the
extraordinary beauty of her timbre and her exceed-
ingly brilliant vocalization, was fain to declare that
her singing was ^'to an extent deficient in that
indescribable something which we call charm'';
that ^'her accents lacked the ring of true pathos";
and that, despite admirable intelligence, ''the gift
of spontaneous feeling had been more or less de-
nied her." As an actress she still had everything
to learn. In point of fact, it was not during this
season that Melba began to build up the pyramid
of her real London triumphs. The raising of that
structure commenced only after another twelve-
month of hard study and practical stage experi-
ence.
The impatience with which the return of the de
Reszkes was awaited can be better imagined than
described. It was emphasized by the fact that they
were to be accompanied by their friend and con-
frere Jean Lassalle, and that the ''French Trio,"
as they were subsequently rather inaptly desig-
nated, would make their rentrees together in a
gorgeous revival of "L'Africaine." That was a
great night. The house was literally crammed
on a shirt cuff is transferred the same night to the diary it is
apt to be overlooked altogether. In the result the appointment
entirely slipped Carl Rosa's memory, and Mme. Melba, after wait-
ing at Harley Street for an hour or two, very naturally got
impatient, and declined further to entertain the matter."
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from floor to ceiling, and the Prince and Princess
of Wales led the applause that greeted the now
famous Polish tenor on making his debut upon the
stage of Covent Garden in the role of Vasco di
Gama. He sang magnificently, while Lassalle's
Nelusko was, if possible, more fervid, more pictur-
esque than ever. Nordica was less well suited as
Selika than as Marguerite in ^ ^ Faust, " which part
she sang with the three distinguished artists later
in the season. Altogether, though, it was a re-
markable performance, and fairly set the seal upon
Jean de Beszke's renown in England, besides add-
ing materially to Augustus Harris's prestige as a
metteur en scene.
While they were in London at this time, MM. de
Reszke and Lassalle stayed at the Continental Ho-
tel in Regent Street, where they occupied adjoining
apartments and took their meals together. I fre-
quently used to join them at lunch or dinner, and a
cordial welcome always awaited me. Then we
would chat over the events of the preceding night's
performance, discuss its merits and deficiencies,
and point out improvements that might be intro-
duced in the future. It was not less amazing than
interesting to see how these three gifted artists
would criticize each other's gestures and attitudes.
Sometimes they would move away the table and
make room to go through some scene with full
stage action— going over it again and again until
they had it to their common satisfaction. On
these occasions I had to play the part of spectator
and deliver my verdict upon the general effect.
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Or else we would talk '' art ^'— talk it steadily by
tlie hour. And what a delight that was, with men
whose only aim was to reach the highest goal by
the noblest path ! How we discussed voice-produc-
tion and breathing! Not a detail of that wonder-
ful subject was left untouched. Now Jean would
show us how a tenor should manage his tones so
as to form the perfectly equal scale. Now Lassalle
would illustrate the marvelous simplicity of the
^^one and only'' method which he designated ^'la
grande ligne." Finally, Edouard would strip to
the waist to give us an example of his extraor-
dinary control of the abdominal muscles, whereby,
in expanding the ribs and completely filling the
lungs, he seemed to raise the lower half of his
figure until, like one barrel sliding inside another,
it had concealed itself in the vast cavity of his
chest.
Once, I remember, our party of four was joined
by Tamagno when the celebrated Italian tenor was
playing Otello at the Lyceum. We all had supper
together after the performance and were in the
j oiliest of moods. Tamagno had a slight cold on
the chest, but protested that it made no difference
whatever in the singing quality of his head tones.
Catarrh in the nose, he said, was fatal, but a chest
cold made not the least difference to him. Upon
this, Lassalle offered to wager that he could sing
higher with his falsetto than Tamagno with his
voce di petto. The challenge was accepted, and
forthwith the two began a vocal duel the like of
which I am certain I shall never hear again. Out
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Thirty Years of
came Tamagno's A's and B flats, as quickly
responded to with the falsetto equivalents from
Lassalle^s sturdy throat. Then the Italian went
' ' one better ' ' ; and the Frenchman, in order, as he
said, to help himself up the scale, mounted his
chair and emitted the B natural; whereupon Ta-
magno also stood upon his chair and brought out
not only a high C, but a ringing D flat. Lassalle
was now for mounting the table, but, this being
** ruled out" as an unfair advantage over a less
athletic opponent, he proceeded to get the neces-
sary notes from the eminence of his chair, amid
terrific applause from the rest of the company.
Tamagno now made a bold dash for a D natural,
but did not quite succeed; and as Lassalle fared
no better, we pronounced the result a ^ ^ dead heat. ' ^
Which, at that somewhat advanced hour of the
night, was perhaps rather a blessing for the neigh-
boring occupants of the hotel.
One great piece of fun, in which Edouard and
I were wont to indulge for the especial amuse-
ment of Jean, was an imitation of the later de-
clamatory style of Wagner. At that time neither
brother knew by heart two consecutive bars of any
more advanced score than that of ''Lohengrin."
Edouard, however, shared the wonderful imitative
faculty of his elder brother, and had a sufficiently
good notion of the character of Wagnerian recita-
tive to be able to caricature it with facility. Ac-
cordingly, I would improvise upon the piano a
*' fearful and wonderful" series of leitmotiven,
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Musical Life in London
varied by strange dissonances and startling modu-
lations, which Edouard for his part would follow
from key to key with marvelous alertness, declaim-
ing the while the most unvocal phrases in an im-
possible guttural language which might as easily
have been mistaken for Chinese as for German.
The effect of this absurd improvisation a deux
was certainly very ludicrous, and from no one did
it evoke heartier laughter than from the artist
who was ere long to portray in ideal fashion the
noblest of Wagner's heroes.
Among the remaining features of the opera sea-
son of 1888 to which attention may be drawn, was
a revival of Verdi's *^Un Ballo in Maschera," Jean
de Reszke playing Riccardo for the first time, with
Scalchi, Sigrid Arnoldson, and Lassalle in other
parts. ^^Guillaume Tell'' was given for Lassalle
and Edouard de Reszke; and the latter also made
a notable hit in Boito's ^ ' Mefistof ele, " in which,
by the way, the parts of Margherita and Helen of
Troy were for once separately undertaken by Mar-
guerite Macintyre and Ella Russell. I may further
mention the highly favorable debut of Zelie de
Lussan in her captivating embodiment of Carmen;
while Nordica essayed for the first time the role
of Aida with entire success. The results of the
season of 1888 were, as a whole, artistically and
financially satisfactory. Not only was it unat-
tended by loss, but the attitude of Augustus
Harris's new clientele clearly indicated that that
all-important factor, the regular subscription.
245
Thirty Years of
might hereafter be counted upon as permanent.
This in itself was an enormous step toward regain-
ing the path of prosperity. In the direction of
stage reform, of greater catholicity of taste, of
improved working in every branch of the enter-
prise, there yet remained much to be accomplished.
Above all, there was need to strengthen the re-
pertory. Covent Garden had too long furnished
a surfeit of hackneyed Italian operas; of mod-
ern works of the best type it offered too few.
The genius of Wagner was represented by a paltry
two or three of his earlier operas, and there seemed
little, if any, prospect of the number being added
to in the immediate future. With this thought in
my mind, I approached Augustus Harris during
the last days of the season and begged him to
give the matter of the repertory his serious at-
tention, particularly with the view to mounting,
if possible, more of Wagner's works.
*'I shall only be too glad to do that,'' he said.
*^I don't exactly see yet how I am to cast the later
Wagner operas, but that question can be left open
for the present. Meantime, I think I should like
to go to Bayreuth this summer. Will you come
with me?" I replied that I had already arranged
to go with some friends early in August.^
**That will be too late for me," said Harris.
*^I must be back early in August to begin the re-
^ I had then not long been appointed a professor of singing at
the Guildhall School of Music, and mj various duties kept me in
town until the end of July.
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liearsals for the autumn drama. I will take Man-
cinelli^ with me, and let him have a lesson in
the Wagnerian business as carried on at ^head-
quarters/ '^
Three weeks later I met impresario and con-
ductor together at Bayreuth on the day that they
were to take their departure. Both were full
of the wonders they had seen and heard. The
works given that year were ' ' Parsifal, ' ' ^ ^ Tristan, ' '
and ^'Die Meistersinger'^— the Nuremberg opera
for the first time at Bayreuth. I asked Harris
which of the three he had decided to do at Covent
Garden next season.
** Parsifal, '' was his unblushing reply; '^that is,
if Frau Cosima will oblige me with the necessary
permission. But I am afraid she won't. Seri-
ously, though, I should like to do the ^Meister-
singer,' even if I have to give it in Italian and
get the text specially translated. If only Jean
de Eeszke would sing Walther! See poor old
Gudehus in the paxt here, and then imagine for
yourself what a perfect Walther Jean would
make ! ' '
I made no comment, but took a mental note
of Harris's wish. It occurred to me that there
might be a chance before long of helping him to
realize his idea.
^ The Italian conductor had quickly become a favorite, and
the admiration of his undoubted gifts had been enhanced by the
production at the Norwich Festival, in 1887, of his oratorio
*'Isaias, '' wherein originality and fine musicianship were alike
conspicuous.
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Thirty Years of
My experience at Bayreuth that summer was
wholly delightful, despite the customary heat and
the inevitable dust. The representations were of
transcendent excellence, the casts incomparable;
for example, ^'Parsifal" with Alvary, Scheide-
mantel, Wiegand, and Therese Malten; ^^ Tristan
und Isolde ' ' with Rosa Sucher and Heinrich Vogl ;
'^Die Meistersinger" with Bettaque, Gudehus,
Friedrichs, and Reichmann. The conductors in
turn were Hermann Levi, Felix Mottl, and Hans
Richter. In a word, those were among the ' ' palmy
days'' of the Bayreuth Festspiel. After leaving
the sleepy old Bavarian town, I went for a fort-
night to the Austrian Tyrol. Then, instead of re-
turning direct to London via Cologne, I left the
Rhine steamer at Coblenz and paid a visit of two
or three days to Ems.
My reason for going to Ems was simply this:
Jean and Edouard de Reszke were staying there,
together with Lassalle, and I had a special object
in wishing to see them. I was only just in time,
for they had all but completed their ^^cure," and
were intending to be off to Poland or Paris in a
day or two. At Ems also was Mme. jSTordica, ac-
companied by her mother; and a very pleasant
evening we all spent together on the day of my
arrival. Next morning I took breakfast with the
famous trio at their hotel— a prelude to what was
to prove one of the most interesting incidents of
my life. It was raining hard, I remember, and we
had i3lenty of time to linger over our coffee and
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Musical Life in London
cigars. Naturally, the conversation turned upon
Bayreuth, and I had to give a detailed account
of what had taken place there. This was precisely
what I wanted. I took care, however, to dwell with
particular frequency and emphasis upon one of the
works that I had heard, and I referred to its beau-
ties so often that at last Lassalle said:
^ ^ I wish you would tell us something more about
this ' Meistersinger. ' Tell us the story ! ' ^
I turned to Jean and Edouard : ' ' But, of course,
you both know the plot of the 'Meistersinger.'
Would it not weary you to listen while I relate
it to our friend here?''
'* Indeed no," rejoined the elder brother; *'we
have only the haziest notion of the story, and I
should be really glad to hear it properly narrated. "
I thereupon proceeded to describe, with all the
eloquence at my command, the manner in which
Sir Waltlier von Stolzing sets about his wooing of
the fair Eva, and how, with the aid of the poet-
cobbler, Hans Sachs, the gallant knight eventually
succeeds in overcoming the prejudices of the well-
meaning mastersingers and winning the hand of
the goldsmith's daughter. I emphasized every
point in the comedy; I dwelt upon its rare com-
mingling of humor and poetic sentiment; I en-
larged upon the wondrous art of the composer in
treating his exquisite pictures of medieval German
life ; in short, I so brought my listeners under the
spell of the story that at last they had wrought
themselves up to a pitch of interest bordering
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Thirty Years of
upon excitement. A lorofessional Persian story-
teller could not have desired a richer reward for
his efforts. I lost no time, but quickly set about
driving the wedge home:
^^If you can find such pleasure in a simple nar-
rative of this plot, imagine what must be the de-
light of hearing the opera itself ! And that you
can accomxplish by the simple process of going to
Bayreuth before the end of next week!''
I said it without seriously hoping that my ad-
vice would be acted upon. But the influence of
the moment was rdore powerful than I had im-
agined. The three artists forthwith declared their
intention of setting out for Bayreuth without de-
lay; and, to make good their words, they immedi-
ately sent off a telegram requesting that seats
should be reserved for the final series of repre-
sentations. At the same time, Lassalle, who could
not read German, wired to Brussels for a French
translation of the libretto, which, I believe,
reached him in time. Mme. Nordica, who was on
the point of leaving Ems, was duly apprised of
their determination and invited to accompany
them; which she did. On the following day I
again breakfasted with the three friends— this
time on the summit of the Marlberg. I was quite
prepared to hear that they had altered their
minds; but, on the contrary, they were more bent
than ever on going. In the afternoon I left Ems
for England. Later in the month, I received from
Mme. Nordica this letter:
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Musical Life in London
Berlin, August 21, 1888.
Dear Mr. Klein :
I thought you would perhaps like to know how we
enjoyed our Bayreuth experience. Well, it was truly
most sublime!
My mother and I remained in Ems and went along
with the " Monsters. '^ And a very jolly journey we had.
I was fortunate enough to get tickets for both operas,
and after each act we adjourned to the cafe, hard by,
to talk it over. I think Lassalle enjoyed it least of all.
But at the last moment all were very triste, because,
after all their calculations, M. Lassalle received a tele-
gram from France calling him home to his children.
So Jean and Edouard were obliged to ^'trudge" on to
Breslau, while their friend fled back to Paris. Your
humble servant plodded on to Berlin, and here end the
riotous and mirthful scenes with which we are fully
acquainted.
I am having splendid success here.
My mother wishes to be kindly remembered, and so
does
Yours very sincerely,
Lillian Nordica.
The effect of the visit to Bayreuth was such that
Jean de Reszke and Lassalle decided without fur-
ther hesitation to study ^^Die Meistersinger " for
the following season. Meanwhile, a proposition
had for some time been laid before the ^^trio" by
Mapleson for a visit to the United States in the
spring of 1889. This was seriously considered,
and for a while it seemed highly probable that
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Thirty Years of
the famous artists would make their advent in
America under the banner of the old impresario
of Her Majesty's. As usual, however, the latter
was able to command everything but the neces-
sary capital, and so the project came to nothing.
The advanced point reached in the negotiations is
clearly indicated by the following letter, which I
received early in November:
[Translated from the French.]
Paris, Wednesday.
My dear Friend:
At last Lassalle has returned from Lyons, and I am
able to give you an answer on the subject of Mapleson.
With Lassalle nothing has been signed. Mapleson has
verbally settled the clauses of the contract, but no sig-
natures have been exchanged; and it is even very dis-
agreeable, because Lassalle, as a matter of delicacy, will
accept no other engagement while Mapleson shows a
sign of life. My brother and I have arranged the bases
of our contracts, the salary, the repertory, the number
of representations, etc.; but we are waiting in vain for
the contracts. Mapleson was to have given us certain
guarantees that we asked for, and for our part we also,
as a matter of delicacy, are waiting until he decides to
come and sign these clauses. There you have the truth :
as in London, so at Ems, we talked over with Mapleson
the whole of the project for America, discussed figures,
and separated good friends; but in words only — in writ-
ing not so much as a shadow ! This is very annoying for
us, for we are refusing quite a quantity of business for
this *' unsigned" America. I hope that Mapleson will
254
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end by arranging the entire affair, for just now tie is
counting a little too much on our patience. My dear
friend, I shall be delighted to see you at the premiere
of ''Romeo." A place will be reserved for you. Bay-
reuth was superb ! I cherish the memory of it among
my most poetic souvenirs. A thousand friendly greet-
ings and a shake of the hand from your devoted
Jean de Reszke.
But not until I saw him in Paris did I learn from
Jean de Reszke 's own lips the deep and ineffaceable
impression that the Bayreuth representations had
left upon him. His decision to essay the role of
Walther von Stolzing had, however, been com-
municated to Augustus Harris without delay, as
also the intimation that Lassalle would play Hans
Sachs. It is not too much to say that the news filled
the enthusiastic manager with genuine pleasure.
He at once commissioned the late Giannandrea
Mazzucato to prepare an Italian translation of the
text, and bade Mancinelli mark the ' ' cuts ' ' essential
for reducing the score of '^Die Meistersinger ' '
to the Covent Garden limits of that period— a task
which the worthy conductor performed with char-
acteristic liberality. These were regrettable but
indispensable adjuncts of an otherwise welcome ex-
periment, the ultimate success of which was to lead
to results infinitely more important and far-reach-
ing than I could have dreamed when I related that
simple story of medieval Nuremberg over the
breakfast-table at Ems.
255
CHAPTEE XII
Patti and Jean de Reszke in "Rom6o et Juliette"— Historical
night at the Paris Opera— Carl Rosa's death— The controlling
influence at Covent Garden— Lightning opera production
— " Romeo " in French; "Die Meistersinger " in Italian— First
gala night— Queen Victoria and Jean de Reszke.
A HAPPY, if fortuitous, circumstance was that
which brought upon the same scene, toward
the end of 1888, the two most illustrious lyric ar-
tists of their time. The rising star of Jean de
Reszke had displaced no more familiar planet; it
simply filled a vacant foremost position in the con-
stellation of operatic favorites. For some four
years Adelina Patti had ceased to appear regularly
in opera in London; but in the concert-room and
upon the Continental stage she still enchanted vast
audiences, and, in every sphere alike, the brilliant
orb of the ^ ^ queen of song ' ' continued to blaze with
undimmed splendor. Now, in my opinion, there
would have been ample space for these two famous
stars to shine in company at Covent Garden with-
out one detracting in the smallest degree from the
brightness of the other. Yet, with all his pluck,
Augustus Harris never ventured upon this ^^ great
emprise.'* Whether from motives of economy or
for some more obscure reason, I cannot say; but,
256
L ruui 11 pliotogr(ii)li by LiuiK^iR' Ow Co., i'ai
JEAN DE RESZKE
AS ROMEO
Musical Life in London
if the former, he had before him the striking ex-
ample of the ^^ coalition season'' of 1879, when Gye
and Mapleson united their wonderful array of
forces at Covent Garden and made between them
a net profit of £24,000 ($120,000).
Strangely enough, it was Paris that was to do
the trick. That highly favored institution, the
Academie Nationale de Musique, was to have the
honor of including in its bill, ^'for a few nights
only,'' the distinguished names of Adelina Patti
and Jean de Reszke. They were no strangers.
They had known each other in the earlier days
when the tenor was singing as a barytone, and
the diva had given much friendly advice and en-
couragement to the young Pole, whom she was
wont to address by his petit nom of ' ' Giovannini. ' '
The occasion that brought them together again
was the first performance at the Grand Opera of
Gounod 's ' ^ Romeo et Juliette. ' ' Curious had been
the history of this work in the two capitals. It
was first produced at Paris at the Theatre-Lyrique
in 1867, the part of Juliette being then sung by
Mme. Miolan-Carvalho, the original Marguerite of
Gounod's ^' Faust." In 1873, when the Theatre-
Lyrique disappeared, *^ Romeo et Juliette" was
transferred to the boards of the Opera-Comique,
and at about the same time it was given at Covent
Garden in Italian, with Mario and Patti in the title
roles. Later on the renowned prima donna (then
the Marquise de Caux) appeared in the same ver-
sion with the handsome French tenor, Ernest
259
Thirty Years of
Nicolini, who was subsequently to become her
second husband. Notwithstanding these interpre-
tative advantages, neither in Paris nor in London
did '^iiomeo et Juliette'' take any real hold upon
the affections of the public. ^^ Faust" was by far
the most popular opera of the day. "Romeo"
seemed to be merely tolerated because it was by
the same composer and on account of its Shak-
sperian subject, rather than for any intrinsic merits
of its own. I know not which were the unkinder
toward it, the French or the English critics. The
latter plainly called it a dull, tedious opera. One
of the former complained that the "symphonic
element dominated it too much"; that the duo
Valouette required "more naive emotion, fewer
heart-rending dissonances and violent cries, more
art and more nuances ' ' ; finally, that the composer
had "preferred to make concessions to the doc-
trine of the music of the future, while discarding
the exigencies of taste and ear, and making of it
a realistic drama. ' ' ^
Autres temps , autres moeurs! During the "eight-
ies" a distinct change of attitude began to mani-
fest itself in Paris toward "Romeo et Juliette."
I recollect a performance at the Opera-Comique
in 1886, with Talazac and Adele Isaac, that de-
lighted not only myself but a crowded and demon-
strative house. At last Gounod, still hale and
hearty, arranged for his work to be transferred
^ ^ ' Dictionnaire Lyrique, " by Felix Clement and Pierre Larousse.
260
Musical Life in London
from a stage that was too small for it to the opera-
house where it ought originally to have seen the
light. The directors, MM. Ritt and Gailhard, had
the discrimination to foresee a valuable addition
to their repertoire, and determined to mount it
with a superb mise en scene and the finest obtain-
able cast. Gounod himself undertook to conduct
the inaugural performance, and, in compliance
with the stupid traditions of the Paris Opera, he
consented to furnish the music for a ballet, without
which at that time no work, whatever its source,
could obtain admission to this law-ridden stage.
I went to Paris expressly to attend this most
interesting premiere, which took place on Novem-
ber 28, 1888. Seats were not only at a high pre-
mium but virtually unobtainable, and I owed the
possession of mine to the courtesy of Jean de
Reszke. Many a time I have looked upon the
heavily gilded and slightly sombre interior of the
Paris Opera-house, but never when it contained
such an audience, such a gathering of famous men,
of elegant, jewel-bedecked women, as appeared
there on that memorable night. The grandes
dames of the French aristocracy were present, dis-
playing a sartorial splendor that recalled the
halcyon days of the Second Empire, and what that
implied I can only leave my fair readers to guess.
On taking the conductor's seat, Gounod was over-
whelmed with acclamations. His calm, serene
countenance wore an encouraging smile, and no
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Thirty Years of
one would have dreamed that the veteran com-
poser was as anxious as though it were the first
performance of a brand-new opera.
At the outset, indeed, every one was nervous.
Many years had elapsed since Mme. Patti had ap-
peared at the Opera, and, often as she had enacted
Juliette-y this was the first time she had sung the
part in French; in the waltz air— long one of her
favorite concert-pieces— she did what was for her
the rarest imaginable thing: she made a slip
that carried her four bars ahead of the accom-
paniment (^'Elle sautait quatre mesures!'^ as
Gounod subsequently put it). Yet, thanks to her
extraordinary presence of mind, the great prima
donna regained her place so quickly that probably
not twenty persons in the audience noticed the
error. Moreover, she sang the whole waltz with
such grace and entrain that an encore was inevit-
able, and on the repetition her rendering of it was
the most brilliant I have ever heard her give. The
youthfulness and charm of her assumption were
astounding, while her fine acting in the more tragic
scenes indicated a startling advance in histrionic
force over her effort in the same opera ten years
earlier.
The new Romeo proved worthy of his associa-
tion with this perfect Juliette. The mere fact that
it was Jean de Reszke may be deemed suiOficient
guarantee of that to-day; it is not easy, however,
to convey an idea of the striking revelation which
his impersonation offered as, step by step, scene
262
Musical Life in London
by scene, it unfolded itself for the first time upon
the same plane with Patti's exquisite conception.
Every attribute that distinguished the one arose,
strong and clear-cut, in the other. Never before,
at least in their operatic mold, had the hapless
Veronese lovers been so faultlessly matched.
Where was ^ ^monotony,'' where was ^Hedium,''
now? The interest of that delicious sequence of
love-duets acquired a fresh intensitj^, and became
'^cumulative" in such a degree that the final scene
in the tomb formed a veritable climax of musical
as well as dramatic grandeur. The genius of
Gounod stood in a new light; and his personal
triumph on this occasion was a fitting corollary to
that of the great artists who were his chief inter-
preters. Again and again did they appear before
the curtain, hand in hand, an illustrious trio,—
to be converted into an illustrious quartet after
Edouard de Eeszke had invested with his own
unique organ notes the grateful phrases of Frere
Laurent. From first to last, it was a historic per-
formance.^
^ The following is the translation of a letter which Gounod ad-
dressed to Jean de Eeszke in 1892 (the year of the composer's
death), on the day after the tenor's appearance in the one-hun-
dredth performance of **Eomeo" at the Paris Opera:
^ ' My dear Jean :
''You literally surpassed yourself last night. Perhaps that sur-
prises you? It does me, too. Nevertheless, it is true. Never
have you carried to such a height that beauty of diction and
gesture, that correctness and expressiveness of accent, that con-
trol of voice production — in a word, that perfectly balanced pro-
portion which alone makes the great artist by placing him beyond
263
Thirty Years of
It was natural that the tremendous success now
reported from Paris should draw the attention of
Augustus Harris to Gounod's hitherto neglected
opera. He immediately secured such performing
rights as were surviving in the work, and arranged
to give it at Covent Garden during the season of
1889. Therewith came about a decision which was
to lead to one of the most important innovations
of the new regime. Why revive ^' Romeo'' in
Italian? Why not give it in the original French!
The establishment in Bow Street might still bear
the courtesy title of ^'The Royal Italian Opera";
but with two thirds of the active repertory French
and German, this was surely a misnomer, or would
be so but for the pious superstition that London
society never cared for opera unless sung in Italian.
Not only did the de Reszkes prefer to sing in
French, but many members of the company were
now taken from the Paris and Brussels opera-
houses. Among them was Mme. Melba, who was
to replace Mme. Patti as Juliette in the Covent
Garden cast. On the whole, therefore, it was found
easier to perform ^^ Romeo" to the original text
than to any other; and this happy contingency,
the danger of extremes, the perpetual temptation of the incom-
petent. Thanks and bravo, again and always! May heaven pre-
serve you and leave us your beautiful art as long as possible!
Of such as you we have great need. Eemember me to dear
Edouard, \yho, like yourself, has the air of having been born in
his role, and believe me, both of you,
"Cordially yours,
''Ch. Gounod.''
264
Musical Life in London
while it enhanced the London success of the opera,
also opened Harris's eyes to the weighty fact
that operas sounded best— and were most accept-
able to his subscribers— in the language to which
they were composed. The full demonstration
of this truth was not to come, however, until
later on.
Meanwhile, a serious blow was inflicted upon the
cause of opera in England through the death of
Carl Rosa, which occurred in Paris on April 30,
1889. Failing health had for some time materially
restricted the scope of his labors; and, in the
opinion of his best friends, he committed a signal
error when he converted his enterprise into a lim-
ited liability company. On the other hand, he did
a good stroke of business when he induced Au-
gustus Harris to unite with him and make it a
joint undertaking. Thereby, poor fellow, he length-
ened the life of the concern, if powerless to pro-
long his own. I have shown before how admirably
these gifted men worked together, and it was a
thousand pities that they were not permitted to
^^run in double harness '^ a few years longer. The
harm wrought by this premature separation was
serious in every way— most of all, perhaps, in that
it shifted an excessive load of work and responsi-
bility upon the shoulders of the surviving partner.
Augustus Harris now became managing director
of the Carl Eosa company, as well as lessee and
manager of Drury Lane and impresario of the
Royal Italian Opera; and, even in an age of huge
265
Thirty Years of
trusts and giant administrators, that was too much
for a single individual to undertake.
It is apropos to note here the imperceptible but
steady growth of an influence which was to ex-
ercise an important bearing upon the trend and
ultimate development of the Covent Garden enter-
prise. The subscription for the season of 1889 was
larger than ever. The Prince of Wales (now King
Edward VII) was taking a deep personal interest
in the opera, and he and the Princess were among
its most regular attendants. Closely in the royal
wake followed an ever-augmenting section of the
aristocracy, overflowing by this time from grand-
and pit-tier boxes into several rows of stalls. Now,
the ^^ interests" of these subscribers had to be
studied, and the duty of representing them vis-d
vis with the manager was fulfilled with much tact by
Mr. Harry V. Higgins, the brother-in-law of Lady
de Grey. Her ladyship never for an instant re-
laxed the hold which her initial efforts had given
her in the control and working of the organiza-
tion. At first purely artistic and disinterested;
then guided by a general consensus of opinion;
finally, dictated by her own individual ideas— the
wishes of this indefatigable lady have grown to
be the commands— nay, the absolute law— of the
most independent opera-house in Europe.
I do not purpose writing the ^ inside history"
of this matter. Indeed, it would scarcely concern
my present task to touch upon it at all, save for
the purpose of rendering the progress of events
266
-t'lom a photograph by Ucnque & Co., Paris
EDOUARD DE RESZKE
AS FRERE LAURENT
Musical Life in London
clear to the reader. It is enough, then, to say that
Lady de Grey (whose husband. Earl de Grey, had
been an habitue of the opera for many years) oc-
cupied from the outset a position of extraordinary
power and influence. A persona grata at Marlbor-
ough House, the intimate personal friend of Jean
and Edouard de Heszke, the recognized leader of
the subscribing body, it would have been strange
indeed had this tireless supporter of the enter-
prise failed to become one of the most potent factors
in its internal economy.
During the early days of the renaissance much
diplomacy was used by all parties. Mr. Higgins
would convey suggestions to Mr. Harris, who
would thereupon have a chat with Lady de Grey
and promise to do his best to meet her wishes.
Needless to add that they seldom passed unheeded.
As time went on the modus operandi gradually al-
tered. When Harris became overwhelmed with
his various duties he was glad to rely upon Mr.
Higgins for advice, or even to go to Lady de Grey
^^for instructions.'' A new prima donna had to
be engaged, a new opera to be commissioned, a
Continental success to be mounted, a new box-
subscriber to be passed and admitted. Ere any
of these things could be done it was essential that
Lady de Grey should be consulted. So by degrees
her word became law; and law it remains to this
day. With the artists at Covent Garden Lady de
Grey is very popular. With those who fail to ob-
tain engagements she is naturally the reverse;
13
269
Thirty Years of
and I dare say she is often blamed for refusals
for which she is not primarily responsible.
Personally I have always found her the amiable
lady that the world supposes her to be, despite
the knowledge that a hand of iron is hidden be-
neath the velvet glove. And she certainly has a
devoted second in the present managing director
of the Royal Opera Syndicate. The chairman,
Earl de Grey, naturally represents his wife's
views. The secretary, Mr. Neil Forsyth, has a
well-earned reputation for urbanity, energy, and
tact. On the whole, the machine works smoothly,
and from a practical view-point nothing can be
urged against a concern that pays its shareholders
a regular and substantial dividend. At the same
time much might be said regarding the artistic
demerits of a system that depends so largely upon
individual fancy, impulse, and even caprice. The
best results cannot possibly be obtained where the
personal equation is allowed to take precedence
of loftier considerations. The most we can hope
is that an improved standard of public taste will
compel the observance of those higher traditions
which lend prestige to the leading subsidized
opera-houses, and which Augustus Harris adopted
and handed down to his successors in a much more
flourishing and unsullied condition than the latter
probably have ever realized.
The ppera season of 1889 demands further atten-
tion for at least two productions out of the three
Vv^hich it yielded. It opened, at Covent Garden,
270
Musical Life in London
with Bizet's ^^Pecheurs de Perles, '' given in Italian
with Ella Russell, Talazac, and D'Andrade in the
cast; but the work signally failed to please. In
June the de Reszkes returned, with Melba and Las-
salle, and on the fifteenth a French performance
of ^^ Romeo et Juliette'' shed lustre for the first
time upon the annals of a London opera-house.
The full cast was as follows: Romeo, M. Jean de
Reszke; Frere Laurent, M. Edouard de Reszke;
Tybalt, M. Montariol; Mercutio, M. Winogradow;
Capulet, M. Seguin ; Due, M. Castelmary ; Stefano,
Mile. Jane de Vigne; Gertrude, Mme. Lablache;
and Juliette, Mme. Melba ; Signor Mancinelli, con-
ductor. The chorus sang in French, and the
mounting of the opera was almost entirely new.
^ ^ Romeo ' ' attracted crowded audiences throughout
the season. I may mention that the role of Juliette
was subsequently filled with no less success by
Mme. Emma Fames, who, by the way, had studied
it under Gounod when she succeeded Mme. Patti in
the part at the Paris Opera.
Meanwhile preparations were in active progress
for the eagerly awaited representation of "Die
Meistersinger. ' ' These were so far advanced that
it took Mancinelli less than a month to get his ma-
terial into highly creditable shape. To attain per-
fection another month was, of course, needed ; but
when, I should like to know, during or since the
Harris era, did a difficult and unfamiliar opera
ever receive at Covent Garden an adequate
allowance of time for thorough rehearsal? A
271
Thirty Years of
month for a big Wagner work was considered am-
ple, and, truth to tell, the results accomplished in
that absurdly small space of time gave such remark-
able satisfaction that no struggle was made to ob-
tain a more liberal concession. London was now
learning the lesson of lightning opera production
which New York was to imitate later on— as, for
example, in the recent instance of Paderewski's
' ' Manru. ' '
Both Jean de Reszke and Lassalle had been
working hard at their parts all through the winter
and spring. Toward the end they received valua-
ble assistance in their studies from the veteran
maestro al piano, Herr Saar, a well-known figure
at Covent Garden for upward of a quarter of a
century. This excellent musician— a genuine type
of the old German school— was the conductor at
Strasburg, and familiar with every note of Wag-
ner's scores. He shared my intense enthusiasm
on the subject of Jean de Reszke 's ^^predestina-
tion'' for the great Wagner roles, and his joy over
the approaching advent of the new Walther von
Stolzing knew no bounds. I was often present
when he came round to the Continental to do a
morning's work with the great tenor. His good-
humored face would be wreathed in smiles as he
sat down to the piano; and when Jean sang the
''Probelieder" or the ''Preislied," with a charm
that gave them a new meaning, the old accom-
panist would gaze heavenward through his spec-
tacles with a look of ecstasv that was far more
272
Musical Life in London
eloquent than words. He objected to the cuts ; he
cordially disliked the Italian text; but he was
aware that both were indispensable, and he had
the satisfaction of knowing that we all agreed with
him.
For, notwithstanding the poetic merit and rhyth-
mical vigor of Mazzucato's adaptation, Jean de
Eeszke was even now beginning to rebel against
the open vowels and soft consonants of the Italian
tongue as a medium for the utterance of the crisp,
rugged verse, the expressive Teutonic sounds, the
biting sibilants and gutturals of Wagner's origi-
nal text. He felt that his declamation was even
losing force in the very act of giving it birth— that
it had not yet acquired the intense dramatic
quality which had so appealed to him in the enun-
ciation of the Bayreuth singers. All this was to
be acquired in good time, though we little imag-
ined then that the fulfilment was to be so com-
plete ; for as yet the Polish tenor had not declared
to a soul (and probably had not yet conceived the
idea) that he would ever sing an opera in the Ger-
man language. And for the moment musical Lon-
don was content to be radiantly happy over Jean
de Eeszke 's first appearance on any stage (July 13,
1889) as the hero of Wagner's *^Die Meister-
singer." It was a great occasion, and the public
recognized it as such by crowding the house in
every part. Earely have I known Covent Garden
to be pervaded so completely by an atmosphere
of excitement and curiosity. Only five years pre-
273
Thirty Years of
vious the same opera had been given there in Ger-
man before a comparatively lukewarm assem-
blage of Wagner partizans. Now every section of
the operatic community, united in love and ad-
miration for a great artist as well as for a great
composer, was fully represented. That the stick-
lers for the exact letter grumbled at Mancinelli's
prodigious cuts may go without saying; but that
could not be helped, and, indeed, their complaints
were almost unheard amid the general chorus of
gratification and pleasure.
The reader will forgive me if I say that on that
memorable night I felt, deep in my heart, a sen-
sation of joyful but modest pride at the thought
that I had been in some measure instrumental in
bringing about that felicitous achievement. I shall
be ever grateful for the words of thanks with
which Jean de Reszke and Lassalle responded to
my congratulations when I went on the stage to
see them after the first act. Both seemed to be in
the seventh heaven. Edouard, the future Rans
Sachs J was present ; and to the lips of us all there
came more than once the word ^'Ems!" The
Bayreuth experiment had turned out a brilliant
success.
Looking back with calm reflection upon the Hans
Sachs of Lassalle, I must admit that his delineation
of the poet-cobbler was too refined, too delicate,
too '^gentlemanly'' to be altogether correct. Yet
his noble voice and artistic phrasing imparted an
added beauty to his music, and the benevolent,
274
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Musical Life in London
kindly spirit of the character has never been more
delightfully portrayed. The very attributes of re-
finement and distinction that were out of place in
Hans Sachs enabled Jean de Reszke to realize in
ideal fashion the attractive personality of the
Franconian knight, especially in the half-timid,
half -angry moments when he rebels against the
dull bigotry of the Nuremberg mastersingers.
The entire embodiment presented features of origi-
nality that surprised by their freshness no less
than by their truthful adherence to the Wagnerian
conception; and, as with his Lohengrin, so with
his Walther, the vocal rendering of the part con-
stituted a veritable revelation. The final render-
ing of the ^ ' Preislied ' ' on that hot July night was
something that never before had been approached,
and has not since been surpassed.^
One of the events of this season was a gala per-
formance at the Opera in honor of the Shah of
Persia. Such celebrations subsequently became of
frequent occurrence, but this was noteworthy as
the first that had taken place at Covent Garden
since the visit of the Emperor and Empress of the
French many years before. The Queen, of course,
^ The cast, in addition to MM. Jean de Reszke and Lassalle,
included Mme. Albani {Eva), Mile. Bauermeister {Magdalena),
M. Isnardon (Bechmesser) , M. Montariol (David), Signer Abram-
off (Pogner), and M. Winogradow (Kothner). Signor Manci-
nelli conducted, and won special praise for the admirable work
done by his orchestra. The stage manager was M. Lapissida,
of the Brussels Monnaie, who hid already superintended the pro-
duction of the opera at that hoa e.
\
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Thirty Years of
did not attend, being, as usual, represented by the
Prince of Wales. But more than a quarter of a
century had now elapsed since the death of the
Prince Consort, and there was growing evidence
of Her Majesty's willingness to emerge somewhat
from her retirement and to indulge more freely in
the enjoyment of an art to which she was always
conspicuously devoted. Welcome proof of this had
been forthcoming in the previous May, when
Queen Victoria went to the Royal Albert Hall to
hear a performance of ^ ' The Golden Legend ' ' con-
ducted bv Sir Arthur Sullivan. The idea now re-
ceived further confirmation from the fact that
Her Majesty began to take a renewed interest in
the Opera; and, thanks to the glowing reports of
various members of the royal family, her curi-
osity regarding the new Polish singers was roused
to the highest pitch. This at last found expression
in a ^^ command'' that, together with Mme. Al-
bani, they should appear before Her Majesty at
Windsor Castle.
I cannot do better than quote at length a note
wherein M. Jean de Reszke gave me a full descrip-
tion of this, his first visit to Windsor. He says :
[Translated from the French.]
My dear Friend :
The concert began with the air from *'L'Etoile du
Nord," which Edouard sang wonderfully. Then Mme.
Albani and I sang the duet from ''Lohengrin," after
which the Queen expressed a desire to hear me in ' ' Salve
278
Musical Life in London
dimora" from ''Faust." This I gave, and she appeared
delighted. Next Mme. Albani sang an air by Handel,
with the accompaniment for flute obbligato — I think
''Sweet Bird" was the title, but you will know better
than I the particular piece in question; and she sang
it like a true virtuose. I accompanied Edouard in
Denza's romance "A un portrait," with which the Queen
was much pleased; then Edouard and I thundered out
the unaccompanied duet from "Carmen," arranged by
ourselves— great success!^ At Her Majesty's request,
the concert ended with the duet from the "Traviata, "
sung by Mme. Albani and myself. The Queen, smiling
and full of kindness, approached us and paid us many
compliments. Among them she told me that I reminded
her of Mario, only that my voice had more power. She
refused to believe that I was the elder brother, and this
discussion, in which Mme. Albani was called upon to
arbitrate, greatly amused the Queen. Then, after the
customary courtesies, the Queen retired. I found her
extremely well, charming in manner, speaking French
like a Parisian, and a genuine lover of music — as one
could easily see by her eyes and in the movements of the
head with which she emphasized the chief passages. In
a word, this musical pilgrimage was anything but the
solemn function which we at first feared it might be.
Thanks to the amiability of the sovereign, there was not
a vestige of fog at Windsor! Mancinelli accompanied.
A thousand greetings.
Jean de Reszke.
^ The ' ' Carmen ' ' duet referred to in the above is a clever ar-
rangement by the brothers, for two voices in ''thirds" and
"sixths," of the refrain ''Dragon d'Alcala, " sung by Don Jose
just before his entry into the tavern of Lillas Pastia in the
second act.
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Thirty Years of
The summer of 1889 did not pass entirely with-
out operatic rivalry. A feeble effort and an ex-
piring one was that made at Her Majesty's by
Mapleson in June, with Bevignani as conductor.
The company, with two or three exceptions, was
mediocre in the extreme, and the only debutante
worth mentioning was the contralto, Signorina
Bellincioni, younger sister of the soprano, who also,
later on, created the role of Santuzza in ^'Caval-
leria Rusticana.'' This season lasted exactly
twenty-five days. A more interesting and more
fortunate speculation was the series of representa-
tions of Verdi's ^'Otello" given at the Lyceum
Theatre in July, under the direction of Mr. M.
L. Mayer, with a complete Milanese troupe—
principals, chorus, orchestra, and even mise en
5ce^e— expressly brought over from La Scala,
where the opera was first produced in February,
1887. Tamagno and Maurel sustained their origi-
nal parts, and for the former it was his London
debut. The performance, exceedingly fine on the
whole, was admirably directed by Faccio, the fa-
mous chef-d'orcJiestre of La Scala, who died a
year or two later.
It was in this same season that Eugene Ysaye
made his first appearance in London, playing the
Beethoven concerto at the Philharmonic with such
brilliant success that he was at once reengaged for
the next concert. Under the auspices of the same
society, a successful debut was made also by the
young Russian pianist Loris Sapellnikoff, who
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Musical Life in London
played Tschaikowsky 's pianoforte concerto in
B flat minor, the composer conducting. Largely
through the influence of Joseph Barnby, the quick
development of the modern Flemish school found
recognition in the production by the Koyal Choral
Society of Peter Benoit's oratorio ^ ^Lucifer.''
It created the impression, however, of a more or
less disconnected series of tone-pictures, original
in treatment, but lacking in spontaneous inspira-
tion.
283
CHAPTER XIII
Opera in America and England— Progress at Covent Garden-
Jean de Reszke's Don Jose— Harris and the Wagner per-
forming rights— Debut of Paderewski— The Critics and the
Virtuoso— A new musical "Lion"— Great artist and true
friend— An evening with Paderewski.
IT^ARLY in the winter of 1889-90 a powerful
^ opera troupe was formed by Mr. Henry Ab-
bey to undertake a tour in the United States, and
just before the new year it opened at Chicago with
immense eclat. Among the leading artists were
Adelina Patti, Emma Albani, Lillian Nordica, and
Tamagno. Then for the first time did American
opera-lovers hear the diva as Juliette, Albani as
Valentina and Desdemona, Nordica as Aida, and
Tamagno as Otello. Each in turn achieved suc-
cess; but the chief triumph of the tour fell easily
to Mme. Patti, who appeared always to overflow-
ing houses, and received from the critics, espe-
cially in California, their loudest paeans of praise.
Taken for all in all, this enterprise was notewor-
thy because it opened the eyes of American mana-
gers to the possibility of working independently
of the European impresario. It showed them
where to look for the lodestones best calculated to
attract their own public ; and thus it led to the es-
284
Musical Life in London
tablishment of the prevailing system, which, for
a decade at least, I have described elsewhere by
saying that ''what Covent Garden does this year.
New York does next.'' I need scarcely add that
this aphorism has no application whatever to Ger-
man opera, since the latter was "running alone''
in New York while in London it was not out of
swaddling-clothes. In 1890, however, the two
branches in both cities were still separate and
distinct. The time was yet to come when the three
great schools of opera should be exploited by a
single company of artists upon one and the same
stage.
Gladly would I have written ''four" instead of
' ' three. ' ' But, alas, the development of the young
English school was again progressing at too slow
a rate for it to keep pace with its older and more
powerful sisters. Not that Augustus Harris left a
stone unturned to direct to a successful issue the
policy and the task bequeathed him by Carl Rosa.
He signalized the very first year after his old part-
ner's death by arranging for the company to re-
new its Easter visit to Drury Lane. Rosa had
commissioned Frederic Cowen after his return
from Australia to write an opera expressly for
him.^ The libretto was supplied by Mr. Joseph
Bennett, who, knowing the composer's fondness
for Scandinavian color, founded his plot upon an
^ Mr. Cowen had conducted the whole of the orchestral per-
formances given in connection with the Melbourne Centennial
Exhibition of 1888.
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Thirty Years of
episode in the ancient Icelandic tale of '^Viglund
the Fair." Cowen's ^^Thorgrim" was duly pro-
duced at Drury Lane on April 22,— some thirteen
and a half years after Carl Rosa had brought out
his *' Pauline" at the Lyceum,— with Zelie de Lus-
san, Barton McGuckin, and Frank Celli in the
principal parts. The Prince of Wales, to whom
the work was dedicated, attended the first perform-
ance with the Duke and Duchess of Edinburgh;
and the composer conducted an admirable render-
ing of his opera. Yet, despite a cordial reception,
^'Thorgrim" failed quite to hit the mark, and
the effect of its many beauties was lost because
of a story too unattractive and too undramatic
to appeal to the popular taste. In the course of
this season, Gounod's ^* Romeo et Juliette" was
given for the first time in English.
To be quite candid, as every ^'faithful chroni-
cler" should be, it is necessary to record that such
hold as opera in the vernacular had taken upon the
metropolitan public was now beginning to relax.
The attention of the main body of opera-goers was
directed almost exclusively toward Covent Garden.
And there, during the season approaching, we
were to witness a demand for opera in French that
amounted almost to a craze. The * ^ Romeo ' ' exper-
iment was bearing fruit with a vengeance. As far
as the requisite time for preparation would permit,
no opera composed to a French text was hence-
forth to be sung in any but the French language.
Curiously enough, ''Faust" and ''Les Huguenots"
were still for a brief spell to be given in their Ital-
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Musical Life in London
ian dress; but ^'Le Prophete/' ^'La Favorita/'
^* Hamlet,"* ^Carmen," and even Goring Thomas's
** Esmeralda '^ were all to be done in French for
the first time. That this was a step in the right
direction there can be no question. It was artistic
in the abstract, and furthermore it greatly pleased
the largest array of subscribers known since the
** palmy days'' of Covent Garden. The subscrip-
tion for the opera season of 1890 amounted in the
aggregate to nearly forty thousand pounds ($200,-
000), and this for only ten weeks of ^ve nights each.
Artists' salaries were rising too; but for all that,
Augustus Harris was finding that the *' Royal
Italian Opera," conducted on liberal principles,
was commencing to pay extremely well.
Of the new French repertoire only two works
required special study on the part of the Paris
singers— namely, ** Carmen" and *' Esmeralda. "
Jean de Reszke was pretty forward with the role
of Captain Phoebus; but Lassalle was equally
backward with those of Escamillo and Claude
FrollOj having had little time to devote to the
study of new operas for London. As a matter of
fact, he had only created the title part in Saint-
Saens's '^Ascanio" at the Opera on the 21st of
March, and two days later he wrote me as follows :
[Translated from the French.]
Paris, March 23, 1890.
My dear Friend :
What a pity you could not come to the premiere of
"Ascanio !" You would, I am sure, have been delighted
287
Thirty Years of
with this music. It is a very remarkable work, no matter
what the Parisian press may say of it. I am much afraid
that it (the press) will deceive itself concerning this
work, just as it made a mistake about '' Carmen" and
so many other compositions that constitute the glory of
the French school. Personally, I have had a very, very
great success, whereof, as you may guess, no one could
be happier; but it does not blind me to the point of not
attributing it primarily to the musical value of Saint-
Saens's wonderful work. The honor of being the chosen
interpreter of such a master is great. I am happy and
proud of it. Jean and Edouard beg me to convey to
you their best regards. I unite with them in adding my
most sincere greetings.
J. Lassalle.
The result was that neither ^^ Carmen'' nor *^ Es-
meralda'' appeared in its Gallic guise until late in
July. Indeed, ^ ^ Carmen ' ' was given only for Har-
ris 's ^^ benefit" on the very last night of the season,
when the demand for seats was so enormous that
stalls sold for £4 ($20) apiece, and many hun-
dreds of people were turned away from the doors.
The only disappointment was Melba's non-ap-
appearance as Michaela, but this was almost
forgotten amid the triumphs of Jean de Reszke
and Lassalle, whose admirable impersonations
were well matched by the fascinating Carmen of
Zelie de Lussan. Being a kind of gala night, Au-
gustus Harris imagined it would be interesting to
have each of his three conductors engaged upon
the one opera. Accordingly Mancinelli directed
288
Musical Life in London
the first act, Bevignani the second, Randegger the
third, and Mancinelli again the fourth. The effect
upon the ensemble of the performance was sim-
ply disastrous, and, needless to add, the childish
experiment was never tried again.
The Don Jose of Jean de Reszke has been vari-
ously criticized. I hold the opinion, however, not
only that it was, and still is, a superb embodiment,
but that it did a great deal to restore to the char-
acter the musical and histrionic value which it had
gradually been losing in inverse ratio to the ever-
growing prominence of the central figure of the
opera. For this reason I quote some lines that I
penned anent M. de Reszke's impersonation at the
time :
He showed us that it was as easy for one great artist
to revive the importance and enhance the interest of a
good role as for twenty mediocrities to drag it down to
the level of their own talent. It goes without saying
that the Polish tenor copied nobody's Don Jose in par-
ticular. He knew the traditions of the character, just
as he learned those of Sir Walter von Stolzing by visit-
ing Bayreuth. He read his Merimee and carefully studied
his libretto; but like an artist of individuality and re-
source, he also thought the part out for himself. The
result, curiously enough, was a conception more closely
resembling Campanini's than any we have seen since.
It was free from the melodramatic exaggeration into
which other tenors had fallen. Take, as an instance, the
last act. M. de Reszke did not make himself up like a
starved ghost, neither did he rush about like a savage
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Thirty Years of
animal in a cage. He looked the picture of despair, and
he made his piteous appeal to Carmen with the tone of
a man who is yearning for love, not for an excuse to
commit murder. When at last driven to extremities, he
did not gloat over his revenge nor chase his victim from
corner to corner as a cat might chase a mouse. He
simply stood at the entrance to the bull-ring, and when
Carmen made her attempt to escape, he seized his dag-
ger as by a sudden impulse and stabbed her as she was
endeavoring to pass him. An instant later he was lean-
ing over her lifeless body in tears, horror-stricken at the
deed he had committed. This surely was the true read-
ing of the episode. Nor was it the only scene upon which
M. Jean de Reszke, with rare artistic insight, contrived
to throw a new and consistent light. He depicted with
wonderful subtlety and skill the gradual stages by which
Don Jose is drawn under Carmen's fascinating influ-
ence. Fierce and absorbing passion revealed itself in
his facial expression, his gestures, and, above all, the
thrilling tones of his voice. Never before has the beauti-
ful passage where Jose brings forth the flower that Car-
men gave him and tells her how it cheered his lonely
prison hours, been invested with such charm of voice and
such tenderness and warmth of delivery.
Jean de Reszke did no less to elevate and enrich
by his transcendent art the part of Phcehus in Gor-
ing Thomas's ^'Esmeralda.'' . So did Lassalle
that of the priest Frollo, and so, in a vocal sense at
least, did Melba that of the heroine. These artists
evinced a genuine interest in the opera, for they
had taken an immense personal liking to the com-
poser, and openly expressed their admiration for
2go
Musical Life in London
the talent and modesty of ''ce clier Goringne.'^
But in another direction unfortunate influences
were at work. Notwithstanding its French origin
and treatment, ^' Esmeralda^' was in all essential
matters an English opera, and as such the public
knew and remembered it. Clothed in a foreign
garb, it did not really appeal to connoisseurs, while
the subscribers, as usual, gave infinitely more
thought to the interpreters than to the work. That
Goring Thomas's charming opera would have
fared better— obtained an abiding-place in the ac-
tive repertory— had it been presented in English by
the same distinguished artists, is also a matter of
doubt. Experience has proved that Covent Gar-
den audiences do not care for opera in the ver-
nacular, whether the work be of native or Conti-
nental origin; and it is the same, I believe, with
the audiences of the Metropolitan Opera House in
New York. Nor will the prejudice be overcome
until the leading singers of the English-speak-
ing countries are perfectly trained in the enun-
ciation of their native tongue and can coax
their compatriots into listening with pleasur-
able appreciation to first-rate native works ren-
dered in the language ^ ^ understanded of the
people. ' '
In 1890 all sorts of rumors were in the air con-
cerning the future of Covent Garden Theatre.
There was a heavy mortgage on the property, and
the owner, Mr. A. Montague, was so uncertain
what he would do with it that he would consent
2gi
Thirty Years of
to let the opera-house only for a few weeks at
a time. Augustus Harris, who that year added to
his other trifling labors by accepting the hon-
orable duties of Sheriff of London/ would gladly
have taken a sub-lease of the theatre for a length-
ened period, if only for the sake of being able to
effect the many costly structural alterations and
decorative improvements of which the place stood
so badly in need. But Mr. Montague was in too
vacillating a mood, and he would agree to nothing
definite. Such was the position of affairs when
our old friend Signor Lago came forward and
offered to take Covent Garden for a six weeks' au-
tumn season of Italian opera at cheap prices, dat-
ing from October 18. The offer was accepted.
This autumn enterprise was noteworthy for two
or three things; chiefly for the revival of Gluck's
*^Orfeo,'' wherein the sisters Sofia and Giulia
Ravogli made their debuts, and the contralto, by
her nobly picturesque assumption of Orfeo, cre-
ated a very striking and powerful impression.
Further, Albani and Maurel resumed together the
parts of Elizabeth and Wolfram which they had
played in the production of ^'Tannhauser" at this
house in 1876. Last, but not least, Lago established
his claim, under the clauses of the Berne Conven-
tion, to perform certain operas, such as ^^ Faust''
^ He was a liveryman (by purchase) of the City of London
and Prime Warden of the Loriners' Company. He was the first
theatrical manager upon whom the coveted shrieval dignity had
ever been bestowed.
2Q2
Copyright, 1902, by Davis & Santord, N. V,
PADEKEWSKI
Musical Life in London
and ^ ' Lohengrin, ' ' without pa^Tnent of fees to other
parties who declared that they owned the remain-
ing rights in those books. It was in virtue of the
^ interest" vested therein by prior production at
Covent Garden that Lago obtained that victory,
and the result considerably upset the calculations
of the Carl Rosa Opera Company and Augustus
Harris, who had paid large sums for surviving
rights in certain operas that now proved to possess
only a limited value. Harris, in reply to an inquiry,
had written me a note to say that, * * Except ' Par-
sifal, ' all Wagner rights for this country are ours,
in all languages. No piece can be done at a concert,
even, without permission from yours truly, Augus-
tus Harris."
But the connection between the two undertakings
was soon to be terminated. The new sheriff was
fain to admit that even his Napoleonic grasp was
not equal to the task of holding and directing the
strands of such a huge coil of enterprises, to which,
by the way, he had recently added the lesseeship
of a theatre at Newcastle. Toward the end of 1890
he resigned his position as managing director of
the Carl Rosa Company, and the splendid edifice
which had taken fifteen years to build was now,
for the first time, without an actual controlling
head. Its fortunes, I am sorry to say, quickly be-
gan to suffer. The concern did not long continue
to pay a dividend, and in a few years had become,
what it is now, a mere shadow of its former pros-
perous self.
295
Thirty Years of
The early summer of 1890 was to witness the
debut of the successor to Liszt and Rubinstein, of
the greatest of the fin de siecle group of great
pianists— Ignace Jan Paderewski. This event
created interest at the time among a very limited
circle. It was anticipated with curiosity only by
the critics and dilettanti who follow the trend of
musical events in Paris. For several months we
had been receiving vivid accounts of a young Po-
lish pianist, ^^with a wonderful aureole of golden
hair,'^ who executed miracles upon the keyboard,
who composed delicious minuets and played Cho-
pin to absolute perfection. But London cares
little, as a rule, for what Paris thinks of new ar-
tists, and it displayed anything but a burning im-
patience to hear Leschetizky 's latest pupil. This
fact was sufficiently demonstrated by the meagre
audience which gathered at St. James 's Hall on the
9th of May for the first of the four recitals an-
nounced by the composer of ^ ^ Paderewski 's Min-
uet.^' A more coldly critical assemblage perhaps
it would have been impossible to find. Not a
soupQon of magnetic current was in the atmos-
phere—not even the quickened pulse arising from
the anticipation of * ^ sensational effects."
When M. Paderewski appeared upon the plat-
form there was a mild round of applause accom-
panied by an undercurrent of whispering and sup-
pressed murmurs that had evident reference to his
unwonted picturesqueness of aspect. The deep
golden tinge of his hair seemed to accentuate the
296
Musical Life in London
intense pallor of his countenance. One could
plainly see that he was nervous ; but in those deep,
thoughtful eyes, in those firmly-set lips, in that
determined chin, one could read also the strong,
virile qualities of the self-contained, self-reliant
artist, already accustomed to conquer audiences
and to create magnetism in the most sterile space.
Exactly how he played that day— I mean, as com-
pared with the Paderewski whose every mood was
by and by to become familiar— it is rather hard
for me to say. That he strove to be ^ ^ sensational ' '
I do not believe now, though at the time it was
difficult to think otherwise. For surely his con-
trasts were startling in their violence, and the in-
strument fairly thundered under his execution of
a forte passage. At times there seemed to be no
restraint whatever. His magnificent technique
enabled him to give free rein to his impulse and
imagination, and laissez aller was then the word.
If you loved sensationalism in a pianist, here un-
questionably was a virtuoso capable of providing
an unlimited quantity of it.
And such was the prevailing impression in the
minds of the aforesaid critics and dilettanti when
they left St. James's Hall that afternoon. The
former dwelt not upon the tenderness and poetry
that Paderewski had revealed in his Chopin-play-
ing, nor ujDon the romantic touches in his Schu-
mann. They described as ^^ eccentric" his reading
of Handel and Mendelssohn, and preferred his in-
terpretation of Liszt and Eubinstein. They liked
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Thirty Years of
best of all his rendering of his own **Trois
Hnmoresques a Pantique/' and the inevitable
^^Menuet/' which had been enthusiastically en-
cored. Altogether the press notices were marked
by coolness and extreme caution. For my own
part, I confess that I did not at first care to commit
myself to a definite judgment. Yet I had found
so much to admire, so much to marvel at, so much
that was individual and supremely masterful in
Paderewski's playing that I determined not to
miss a single recital of the three still to come.
The second drew a better audience, though nothing
approaching a crowd ; and this time the new pian-
ist included Bach, Beethoven, and Schubert in his
scheme, together with more Chopin and Pade-
rewski. The ^'barometer'' began to rise. At his
third recital his fine performances of Beethoven's
sonata in A flat, Op. 110, and Schumann's *^ Car-
nival" carried the mercury from ^^ change" to
^^fair"; but there it remained, stationary for the
season. In addition to the recitals he also gave an
orchestral concert, at which he played his own con-
certo in A minor, Saint-Saens's concerto in C
minor, and Liszt's ^'Fantaisie Hongroise," the
conductor being Mr. Henschel; and if it failed to
arouse wide-spread interest, this parting shot
served to hit the mark so truly that I, for one, no
longer hesitated to acknowledge Paderewski as a
really great artist.
The completion of the conquest was deferred,
however, until the season of 1891. There had been
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Musical Life in London
opportunities in the meantime for reflection, and
the public was now beginning to scent a veritable
musical ^Mion.'^ I used to receive letters from
women readers asking all sorts of questions about
the Polish pianist and begging for particulars that
in no way concerned them. These of course went
unanswered; for the English journalist is less
generous than his American confrere in dispensing
information about the private lives of artists.
But the very existence of such curiosity told a
tale. There would be no more ** meagre audi-
ences'' when Paderewski played. As a matter of
fact, his Chopin recital at St. James 's Hall in July
drew the largest crowd and the highest receipts
recorded since the final visit of Rubinstein. He
also appeared at the Philharmonic, at a Richter
concert, and at an orchestral concert of his own,
when he was heard in the greatest two of all piano-
forte concertos: the E flat (''Emperor") of Bee-
thoven and the A minor of Schumann. It was his
superb rendering of these masterpieces that, in
England at least, assured the fame of the gifted
Pole ; and it was this concert that led indirectly to
my making his acquaintance.
I had been requested by his manager, Mr. Daniel
Mayer, to undertake the writing of such brief ana-
lytical notes as the programme required, and, in-
stead of following conventional lines or of describ-
ing these familiar works in detail, I contented my-
self with a more or less detailed contrast of the
characteristic features of the two concertos. This
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Thirty Years of
appeared to have pleased and interested Pade-
rewski; and when I was introduced to him after
the concert he said some charming things in that
charming manner which is so characteristic of the
man. We quickly became close friends. I learned
not only to appreciate the real magnitude of his
gifts as a creative and executive musician, but also
to gauge his rare intellectuality and to respect his
broad-minded views as cultured artist and man of
the world. During his many visits to London we
saw a great deal of each other, and more than once
he testified to his kindly regard for me.
An instance of this occurred in 1894. It was ar-
ranged that, toward the end of his English tour,
M. Paderewski should dine one evening at my flat
in Whitehall Court to meet a few well-known mu-
sicians ; other friends were invited to come in after-
ward. The date— May 3— was fixed by the artist
himself, and the guests at dinner further included
Sir Arthur Sullivan, Sir Alexander Mackenzie,
Sir Joseph Barnby, my beloved old master, Manuel
Garcia, and the veteran 'cellist, Signor Alfredo
Piatti. I was especially gratified to be the means
of bringing Paderewski and Sullivan together.
They were acquainted, I fancy, but had not met
frequently ; at any rate, the former wrote me :
Inutite de vous dire que je serai absolument enchante
de passer une soiree chez vous, avec vous, et de recon-
trer Sir Sullivan [sic], que j 'admire beaucoup.
300
Musical Life in London
Just before dinner a quaint sort of letter was
placed in my hands. It was from some one in the
famous pianist's entourage, reminding me that
M. Paderewski was very fatigued after his heavy
work in the provinces, and begging that I would
under no circumstances ask him to play that even-
ing. I was half amused, half annoyed by this un-
expected communication, which, of course, I knew
better than to regard as inspired by my guest of
honor himself. It was also entirely superfluous, as
I always made it a strict rule never to request an
artist to perform in my house who did not come
there for that purpose or with that expressed in-
tention. However, I thought no more about it until
after dinner, when I took an opportunity to inform
Paderewski, in a whispered ^ ' aside, ' ' of the strange
warning I had received. I assured him seriously
that I had not had the slightest idea of asking him
to play, and that my friends were more than satis-
fied to have the pleasure of meeting him and enjoy-
ing his society. He replied :
^*Do you imagine I think otherwise? This is a
case of 'Save me from my friends!' That I am
tired is perfectly true. But when I am in the mood
to play fatigue counts for nothing. And I am in
that mood to-night. Are you really going to have
some music I"
''Yes, Piatti has brought his 'cello, and he is
going to take part in the Rubinstein sonata in D. ' '
"Then I should like to play it with him; and
301
Thirty Years of
more beside, if lie will permit me. Piatti and I
are now old colleagues at the *Pops,' and we al-
ways get on splendidly together."
What could I say?— save express my gratitude,
and apprise my friends of the treat that was in
store. It was the more welcome because it was vir-
tually unexpected. An unalloyed delight was the
performance of that lovely sonata by the ^^ Prince
of 'Cellists'^ and the greatest of living pianists.
Both seemed to revel in the beauties of a work ad-
mirably designed for the display of their respec-
tive instruments, and the rendering was in every
way perfect. After it was over, dear old Piatti,
who rarely talked much, said to me in his quiet
way, ^*I quite enjoyed that. I have played the
sonata with Rubinstein many times, but it never
went better than to-night.'' Later on he played
again ; and so did Paderewski— with Sullivan close
by his side, watching with fascinated eyes the
nimble fingers as they glided over the keys. That
evening the illustrious pianist was inspired. Fa-
tigue was forgotten; indeed, he seemed much
fresher than on the preceding night, when he in-
troduced his fine ^^ Polish Fantasia" at the Phil-
harmonic.^ He went on and on from one piece to
another, with characteristic forgetfulness of self,
and it was well on to dawn before we parted.
The debut of Leonard Borwick in 1890 is worthy
^ This work was composed for and first performed by M. Pade-
rewski at the Norwich Festival of 1893.
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of mention, inasmuch as, like Fanny Davies, lie
embodies in a remarkable degree the unique quali-
ties of the romantic school whereof their teacher,
Mme. Clara Schumann, was admittedly the most
spontaneous and finished exponent. The suc-
cess of these two native artists was destined to
afford great encouragement to rising students both
in England and on the Continent. It also helped
to create among the general mass of amateurs a
taste for pianoforte-playing of a more warm-
blooded type than had hitherto satisfied them.
The days of Arabella Goddard and her feux-d' ar-
tifice had now passed forever ; and so, very nearly,
had those of the coldly correct and scholastic Sir
Charles Halle. Let it be said, nevertheless, that
the late musical knight accomplished much useful
work in the oral education of the youthful and
impressionable mothers of future generations of
amateurs. He performed a still higher function,
moreover, by diffusing a love of high-class orches-
tral music through the medium of his famous
Manchester band (now conducted by Hans
Richter), which enjoyed a tremendous vogue in
the north of England, though it consistently failed
to make money when brought to the metropolis,
as it frequently was at that time. At the Popular
Concerts Sir Charles was still a favorite, and I
note that in December, 1890, he was taking part
in a ^'Beethoven programme'' with Lady Halle
{nee Neruda), Louis Eies, Ludwig Straus, Alfred
305
Musical Life in London
Gibson, and Piatti for coadjutors. The old com-
bination, even as late as that, was still intact. In
the same month, by the way, Jean Gerardy made
his first appearance in London, a marvelous 'cello
prodigy of twelve, and destined to ripen into an
artist of the first rank.
306
CHAPTER XIV
Adelina Patti at home — Life at Craig-y-nos Castle— Opening of
the Patti Theatre: inaugural operatic performance — Prepar-
ing "wordless" plays— The diva as La Tosm— Her love of
Wagner — Bayreuth by proxy and in reality — "The Queen of
Song": an appreciation— How she reappeared at Covent
Garden — A strange presentiment.
IN August, 1891, I paid my first visit to Craig-y-
nos Castle, the lovely Welsh home of Mme.
Adelina Patti. I had known the distinguished
cantatrice personally some half-dozen years; but
somehow I had always been content to worship
from afar one who filled, by right of unrivaled
gifts, the highest place in the temple of vocal art.
The gr^eatest vocalist of her sex that the world had
brought forth since the middle of the nineteenth
century; the brilliant ^^ Queen of Song,'' honored
by monarchs and princes, sought by the creme of
aristocracy and wealth, quoted by poets and nov-
elists, feted and applauded alike in the Eastern
and Western hemispheres— small wonder if this
strangly unique being had inspired me from youth
upward with feelings of the deepest veneration and
amazement. Nor were those feelings to undergo
the slightest tinge of modification during the
period of ripening friendship and often close asso-
307
Thirty Years of
elation that was now to follow. There 's a ^'di-
vinity doth hedge'' queens as well as kings; and
Patti is one of those in whom familiarity may
exercise a charm, but can never ' ' breed contempt. ' '
The immediate occasion of my first journey
to Craig-y-nos was the inauguration of the elegant
little theatre which Mme. Patti-Nicolini had re-
cently built in the new wing of her castle. It had
been settled in the spring that I was to be present.
In July came the following note :
Craig- Y-Nos Castle, Ystradgynlais,
July 13, 1891.
Dear Mr. Klein :
I promised to send you a line with itinerary for jour-
ney from London to Craig-y-nos Castle,^ which I enclose,
and trust you will be good enough to let me know on
which day we are to expect you, so as to send the car-
riage to the station to meet you. With omr united very
best regards,
Most sincerely yours,
Adelina Patti-Nicolini.
P.S. — The opening of our theatre takes place on the
12th of August.
I went down on the 8th. It was so much more
pleasant to be there for three or four days before
^ It was then an eight hours ' affair, involving two changes of
railway and a journey from one station to another at Neath,
followed ^j a drive to the castle from the station in Swansea
Valley by the road whi'-h Mme. Patti expressly had cut along the
mountain-side. The present journey by the Brecon route is much
shorter.
308
Musical Life in London
the function. One could study the castle and its
environs, and become accustomed to the ways of
the household. My welcome was of the utmost cor-
diality. Mme. Patti's fame as a hostess had pre-
ceded and did not belie her; she kept an eye open
for the comfort of each of her guests. The house
party was a numerous one, including as it did the
Spanish Ambassador, Sir Edward Lawson, Sir
Augustus and Lady Harris,^ poor William Terriss,
the actor (asked to deliver the opening address in
place of Sir Henry Irving, who could not come),
the Eissler Sisters, Signer and Mme. Arditi, An-
toinette Sterling, Giulia Valda, Durward Lely,
Tito Mattel, Wilhelm Ganz, Franco Novara, and
others.
The place has been described so often that I take
it almost for granted the reader knows something
of Craig-y-nos and its beauties. Enough that the
scene is a bit of fairyland, a veritable ^ ^ oasis in the
desert,'' as some guide-books have called it, amid
the long tracts of uninteresting country that con-
stitute the watershed of the Swansea Valley. The
castle itself is fitted up with every contrivance that
modem luxury can afford. The winter garden,
with its wonderful electric fountain, is of huge
dimensions, and in summer the conservatory makes
the most picturesque dining-room I have ever seen.
In the French billiard-room stands the famous
^The worthy sheriff had just received the honor of knight-
hood in connection with the visit of Kaiser Wilhelm II to the
City of London.
309
Thirty Years of
orchestrion, probably the finest instrument of its
kind ever built. It possesses a rich, mellow organ
tone, and executes the most complex compositions
with extraordinary clearness. I may say, without
exaggeration, that it was by the aid of her splendid
orchestrion that Mme. Patti first began to compre-
hend the intricacies of Wagner's more advanced
works. She now knows them by heart and enjoys
them.
But, after all, the gem of the castle, apart from
its mistress, is the theatre. It has been called ^'a
Bayreuth theatre en miniature^^— and justly. No
side boxes or seats; a single gallery at the back;
stalls sloping down to the orchestra so that the mu-
sicians are nearly out of sight ; and a clever system
of stage lighting by electricity. The pure Renais-
sance architecture is set off to great advantage by
a singularly delicate scheme of color,— pale blue,
cream, and gold,— to which the deep sapphire of
the curtains supplies a most effective contrast.
The walls and proscenium are tastefully decorated,
and between graceful columns are inscribed in pan-
els the names of the great composers. The scenery
is painted by the best theatrical artists; while the
act-drop, representing Semiramide driving her
war-chariot, is a spirited achievement, beside fur-
nishing an excellent portrait of the Queen of the
Castle. Also to be noted is the novel mechanism
for rai'sing the floor of the auditorium to the level
of the stage, whereby the salle is converted into a
handsome ball-room. It is here, every Christmas
310
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Eve, that Mme. Patti bestows her annual gifts
upon the servants and tenantry of her estate.
With her professional career nearing its end,
what, it may be asked, can have been the object of
this great artist in enriching her home with such
a structure as this! To practise and perform
operas? Certainly not. True it is that on the
memorable opening night now referred to the still
youthful Patti, a picture of grace ablaze with
diamonds, sang the first act of '^La Traviata,^'
followed by the garden scene from "Faust,'' with
her husband, M. Nicolini, in his old part. Again,
three days later, a performance was given of the
balcony scene from "Romeo'' and the third act
of Flotow's "Martha"; this, like the first, being
attended by a crowded audience of privileged
friends and neighbors. But these were the bap-
tismal representations. They consecrated the the-
atre, as it were, without precisely foreshadowing
the main purpose of its existence.
The answer to this question was supplied by
Mme. Patti herself early during that very sojourn
at Craig-y-nos Castle : "I love the stage. I love to
act and to portray every species, every shade of
human emotion. Only I want freedom— more free-
dom than opera, with its restricted movements and
its wear and tear on the voice, can possibly allow
the actress. I care not whether it be comedy or
tragedy, so long as I feel that I can devote my
whole energy, my whole being, to realizing the
character that I have to delineate. Even words
313
Thirty Years of
trouble me; they take time to commit to memory,
and their utterance fatigues a singer too much.
Yet I want to act, to feel myself upon the boards,
playing to amuse myself and a few chosen friends
on each side of the footlights. What does there
remain for me to do? What but to enact scenes
and plays in ' pantomime ' ; to utilize the ancient art
of the Italian mime and express every sentiment by
means of gesture, action, and facial expression. I
must have music, of course; I cannot do entirely
without my own art and all its wealth of suggestive
force. Give me only a dramatic idea, with music
that aids in depicting it, and I will play you any
part you choose, from one of Sarah Bernhardt 's
down to Fatima in ^ ^ Bluebeard. ' ^
I understood. There was something more in this
than mere whim or caprice. That Mme. Patti had
already been demonstrating her marvelous talent
for ^^ dramatic pantomime'' upon the stage of her
new theatre I knew quite well. In a word, her his-
trionic powers, which had so conspicuously devel-
oped during the later years of her career, were now
asserting their strength to a degree which in this
case demanded active exercise. Knowing that I
was an ^^old hand" at amateur stage work, she
asked me if I would like to assist in one of the en-
tertainments. I inquired which particular kind—
the '^ Sarah Bernhardt'' or the ^ ^ Bluebeard " !
*'Both," she replied, laughing. ^^We already
have a capital arrangement of ^Bluebeard.' We
can do that to-morrow or next day. Then if you
314
Musical Life in London
like to write out a scenario of one of Bernhardt 's
plays, we will put it in hand and give it later in
the month. ' '
I suggested ^*La Tosca"— little dreaming that
Puccini was then thinking of composing an opera
upon Sardou's play. My hostess agreed. The
casts were arranged and forthwith we set to work.
In * ' Bluebeard ' ' I played the lover. In ^ ' La Tosca ' '
young Richard Nicolini, a professional actor,
enacted the painter Paul Cavaradossi, and I took
the part of Scarpia, The rehearsals were a delight.
They frequently took place in the afternoon, and
Mme. Patti entered into them as seriously as
though they were for a public performance; in-
teresting herself in every little detail and suggest-
ing countless bits of effective * ^ business. ' ' It was
in course of these rehearsals that I began to realize
what a consummate mistress she was of the art of
the stage.^ A bare idea, a mere hint, would suffice ;
whether comedy or tragedy was the theme, she
would work upon it and elaborate it with wonder-
ful skill. Once while we were rehearsing ^^La
Tosca, ' ' Sir Augustus Harris quietly slipped in and
took a seat in the dark auditorium. He watched
the proceedings with the amusement of a master of
the game enjoying a holiday. Mme. Patti soon per-
ceived him, and she called out:
* In matters concerning scenery, costumes, and lighting it was
the same, though herein Mme. Patti relied greatly upon the able
assistance of Frank Rigo (the second regisseur of Covent Garden
and the Metropolitan Opera House), who used regularly to spend
his summer holiday at Craig-y-nos.
315
Thirty Years of
*^Gus, what are you doing there! Why don't
you come on the stage and help us T '
*^My dear Adelina,'' answered Sir Augustus,
^ ^ if this were an opera or a play I would with plea-
sure. But it is neither, and whatever it may be,
there is no need of my help as long as you are
there. I am just beginning to realize that if you
had not been the world 's greatest singer you could
have been one of its best actresses." He meant it
—and it was true.
The ^ ^ Tosca" performance did not come off until
August 29, after the impresario had left the castle.
At the last moment we found the bill too long, so
we determined to omit dramatic action and give it
as a series of tableaux vivants, in which form it
vastly pleased a large audience of friends from
' ' The Valley. ' ' They missed, however, the thrill-
ing effect of Mme. Patti's gliding, serpentine
movements in the supper scene where she stabs
Scarpia; and they could not guess that the dead
Minister of Police, in the person of myself, was
positively shuddering as he lay prone between the
two lighted candles. I had been told to keep my
eyes open and stare, but that tragic look upon the
countenance of La Tosca as she placed the crucifix
upon my breast was so terrible that if I had not
closed them I should have had to jump up before
the curtain fell. Throughout, Patti's attitudes
were a wonderful study, and I feel sure Sarah
Bernhardt and Ternina would have given much to
have seen her remarkable impersonation.
316
Musical Life in London
A week prior to this event Mme. Patti had been
honored by a visit from the late Prince Henry of
Battenberg, who was staying at Clyne Castle, and
who came out to lunch accompanied by Count
Gleichen, Lord Koyston (now the Earl of Hard-
wicke), and other friends. The Queen's son-in-
law witnessed a repetition of the garden scene from
^ 'Faust," and altogether spent a most agreeable
afternoon. A few days later we all went over to
Swansea to take part in the annual concert given
by Mme. Patti in aid of the local charities. The
journey each way assumed the character of a tri-
umphal progress, the entire route from the station
to the concert-hall being lined by dense crowds. It
was touching to witness the eagerness of the hum-
ble folk— men, women, and children— to catch a
glimpse of the illustrious vocalist, who once every
year came from her mountain home to aid the in-
stitution that succored their needy and suffering.
The concert itself was memorable because on this
occasion, for the first time in her life, the famous
songstress delivered as an encore the soul-stirring
strains of the Welsh national air, ''Land of my
Fathers ' ' ; and when, at her request, her enthusias-
tic auditors joined in the chorus, the effect was
simply electrifying.
Altogether that delightful month at Craig-y-
nos Castle was packed with excitement and bustle.
It was my privilege during the next few years to
spend there many weeks— visits not less enjoyable,
but less eventful, and infinitely more restful. In
317
Thirty Years of
the evenings we would sit and listen to the orches-
trion, and when it had exhausted its round of Wag-
ner excerpts I would occasionally supplement the
selection upon the piano with fragments from the
^ * Meistersinger/ ' ''Tristan," and the ''Nibelun-
gen." It was extraordinary to see the pleasure
Mme. Patti took in this music. One year August
Wilhelmj was there, and to please her he played
his own transcription of the ''Preislied" upon
Nicolini's fine ' ' Guarnerius, " Clara Eissler exe-
cuting the accompaniment upon the harp. To
reward him Patti sang Gounod's ''Ave Maria" to
his violin obbligato, Clara Eissler again playing
the harp part, while I took the harmonium. Never
did the familiar piece go better. But the real re-
ward came later when some one brought a copy of
Wagner's "Traume" to the castle, and the diva,
for the first time in her career, wedded her golden
tones to one of Wagner's long-drawn melodies.
By her request we worked at it together, but her
German accent and phrasing were faultless, and,
beyond marking the breathing-places, I had vir-
tually nothing to suggest.
In the following season she sang "Traume" at
one of the concerts at the Albert Hall, and so rap-
turously was this applauded that we subsequently
took up the study of Elizabeth's Prayer ("Tann-
hauser"). This suited her to perfection, and she
rendered it with a depth of fervid expression and
a wealth of glorious tone that have never been
equaled. Further than this, however, Mme. Patti
318
Musical Life in London
has not yet consented to pursue her active alliance
with the music of Wagner. She loves to listen to
it, but hesitates to impose upon her delicate organ
the strain of singing it in public. During our Wag-
ner chats she would often ask me about Bayreuth,
and I begged her to seize the first opportunity of
attending the festival. She did not do so, how-
ever, until after her marriage with Baron Ceder-
strom, who is extremely fond of traveling, and,
beside taking his wife to Sweden every summer,
introduces her to many interesting European re-
sorts. The following letter tells its own tale:
FIhrens Villa, near Saltsjobaden, Stockholm,
August 5, 1901.
Dear Mr. Klein :
We have just arrived at this lovely place after spend-
ing a very pleasant time in Switzerland and at Bayreuth,
and I must send you first these few lines to tell you how
immensely I was impressed by the Bayreuth perform-
ances. I never could have imagined anything so perfect
as the mise en scene, and I thought the "Ring" simply
divine. There are no words to express it; it is all so
wonderful and beautiful. I thought "Parsifal" was
glorious, especially the last act, and I am indeed glad to
have heard all these marvelous works.
After a three weeks' stay at Schinznach we went to
Lucerne, where we had a most delightful time, taking
long excursions every day. Can you imagine me going
up the Rigi, Pilatus, the Biirgenstock, and similar
places ? I was well rewarded for my courage in mounting
those perpendicular heights, for the view from the top
was simply beyond description. . . .
319
Thirty Years of
We expect to remain here until the beginning of Sep-
tember, when we shall return to England, as my concert
tour commences the first week in October. The Baron
joins me in sending you kindest remembrances.
Yours very sincerely,
Adelina Patti-Cederstrom.
The days at Craig-y-nos were always full of in-
terest and variety. It was an inestimable privi-
lege to enjoy the daily society and conversation of
Adelina Patti; to hear her ever and anon burst
into song ; to catch the ring of her sunshiny laugh ;
to come under the spell of a personal charm such
as few women possess. She converses with equal
facility in English, French, Italian, and Spanish,
speaks German and Russian well, and by this time,
I dare say, can carry on a fluent colloquy in Swe-
dish. Her memory is extraordinary. She tells a
hundred stories of her early life in America, dat-
ing from the age of seven, when she made her first
appearance in public.^ She tells how they used
to stand her upon the table to sing; how she first
^ The portrait of Adelina Patti at the age of nine forming the
frontispiece of this book is taken from a daguerreotype in her
possession, which she showed me at Craig-y-nos Castle a few years
ago. The complete picture shows three little girls seated together
at a table — Adelina in the centre and a playmate on each side.
I was so much struck by the intelligence of the expression and the
extraordinary maturity of the features generally — so like, even
at that age, to the familiar face of later years — that I begged
Mme. Pat{i to allow me to have a photographic enlargement made
of the central figure. She kindly consented, and three copies
were executed. Of these she herself owns one, the widow of Sir
Augustus Harris has another, and I possess the third.
320
Musical Life in London
rendered ^' Casta Diva '^ by ear without a single
mistake ; and how, when her eldest sister, Amalia,
was striving hard to master the shake, the tiny
Adelina stopped her and asked, ^^Why don't you
do it like this!'' therewith executing a natural and
absolutely irreproachable trill.
Patti tells you that she never studied the art of
producing or emitting the voice. Nature, alone
and unaided, accomplished that mar^^el. To keep
the organ in perfect condition, she has but to run
over the scales ten minutes every morning. Her
vocalization is one of those miracles that cannot
be explained. Its wondrous certainty and finish
are assuredly not arrived at without some labor;
but in the end the miracle seems to have accom-
plished itself. Her ''ear" is phenomenal. She
never forgets a tune, and will instantly name the
opera or composition in which it occurs. Another
mystery is the perennial freshness of her voice,
which, after half a century of constant use, retains
well-nigh unimpaired the delicious sweetness and
bell-like timbre of early womanhood. No other
such example of perfect preservation stands on
record in the annals of the lyric art. To analyze
its secret one can only say, here surely is a singer
of marvelous constitution, heaven-gifted with a
faultless method, who has sedulously nursed her
physical resources, and has never, under any cir-
cumstances, imposed the smallest undue strain
upon the exquisitely proportioned mechanism of
her vocal organs.
321
Thirty Years of
And the triumphs of this incomparable artist
have not ^* spoiled" her. The homage of kings,
the adulation of friends, the applause of multi-
tudes, have not robbed her of that unaffected sim-
plicity, that freedom from ostentation, that yearn-
ing for home life and domestic tranquillity, which
are among her most characteristic attributes. As
evidence of this fact, I quote a portion of a letter
which Mme. Patti wrote me from Nice in the spring
of 1895. It was obviously not ^ intended for pub-
lication," but herein lies its chief value as a com-
munication emanating from the friend rather than
the artist:*
When I gave my extra performance of the ''Barbiere'*
my triumph was, if possible, even greater than usual,
but on each occasion the success has been so enormous
that it would be difficult to say which performance ex-
cited the greatest enthusiasm, or when I received the
biggest ovation. It has, indeed, become a succession of
triumphs the whole time. Do you not feel proud of your
little friend, who was fifty-two last month, and has been
singing uninterruptedly every year from the age of
seven! I am really beginning to believe what they all
tell me — that I am a wonderful little woman!
It is no exaggeration to say that every one, without
exception, has been running after me, and loading me
with invitations— in fact, to such a degree that I must
honestly confess that I am getting decidedly tired of
all the parties and gaieties we have been going through
during the past few weeks. It has been an incessant
lunching out, dining out, and receiving visitors from
morning till night. I shall be very happy to see my
dear Castle again and have a little peace and quietness.
322
Musical Life in London
It was just prior to this visit to the south of
France that negotiations, in which I acted as in-
termediary, were concluded between Mme. Patti
and Sir Augustus Harris for the diva's reappear-
ance in opera at Covent Garden during the season
of 1895. I had long devoutly wished for this con-
summation; but there were many obstacles to be
removed, not the smallest of these being concerned
with the Birmingham managers of the ^' Patti
Concerts" throughout the United Kingdom, who
were naturally afraid lest her return to opera
should interfere with the financial success of the
customary concerts at the Albert Hall. Ultimately
these fears were allayed, and Mme. Patti con-
fided to me that she would not be unwilling to
consider an oifer on certain terms from her
old friend ^'Gus." I immediately set about
arranging for an interview between them in
London. This was not altogether an easy mat-
ter. The great prima donna was to spend only
one evening in town on her way to the Riviera,
and the busy impresario, with whom minutes
reckoned as hours, was not readily to be moved
—on an uncertain mission, as he deemed it
— from one quarter of London to another. But,
eventually, I persuaded him that Mme. Patti was
really in earnest, and he consented to accompany
me to Paddington Station to meet the express from
South Wales.
It was a bleak January evening, and of course
the train was late. This was the more unlucky
because it happened that Tennyson's ^'King Ar-
323
Thirty Years of
thur'' was to be produced at the Lyceum that night,
and we were both anxious to be there at the rise
of the curtain; and, moreover, I had to write a
notice of Sullivan's incidental music to the new
play. We were already in evening dress, and as
Harris was suffering from a cold I took care not
to let him stand upon the draughty platform. We
waited, therefore, by a warm fire at the station
hotel and discussed current events. My compan-
ion was not in good spirits, while the fact that he
was not in a sanguine mood was palpable from his
frequent remark, ^' Klein, I can't believe Patti
means to sing at Covent Garden this season. " Sol
felt heartily glad when the train was signaled and
the youthful little lady, vivacious as ever in bearing,
but silent under a mountain of wraps wound round
to protect her from the biting air, stepped buoy-
antly out of her saloon carriage and took Har-
ris's arm to walk into the hotel. Not a word was
spoken until we got to the private sitting-room.
Then, greetings over, Mme. Patti, with an arch
smile, asked Sir Augustus if he would like a little
quiet conversation with her. He bowed graciously.
The rest of us discreetly retired. Ten minutes
later he came out of the room beaming with plea-
sure. *'Make haste and say good-by. Adelina
would like us to stay and dine, but we must n 't ; we
must get a * snack' somewhere and then hurry to
the Lyceum. ' ' In the hansom he added : "It 's all
right. She sings at six performances, beginning
the second week in June!" And we both felt as
happy as school-boys.
324
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Musical Life in London
In the late summer I was at Craig-y-nos once
more. Work was all over for the season, and the
indefatigable mistress of the castle, satiated with
triumphs surpassing any that she had ever previ-
ously earned at Covent Garden, was only thinking
how she could best amuse her guests and herself
upon the stage of her beloved theatre. It was de-
cided to do a new ' ' play without words. ' ^ Several
subjects were proposed, but the choice eventually
fell upon Mrs. Henry Wood's ^'East Lynne,"
which, as every one knows, was dramatized many
years ago and makes a most effective play. The
scenario was soon prepared and rehearsals started.
There was ample talent available for the rather
lengthy cast. Mme. Patti of course played Ladt/
Isabel (afterward Mme, Vine) ; that talented ama-
teur actor C. P. Colnaghi (since deceased) was the
Archibald Carlyle; another well-known amateur,
Augustus Spalding, played Captain Levison; and
I undertook the part of Richard Hare. Music for
the melodrame was expressly composed (at light-
ning speed) by our hostess's distant relative Andre
Pollonnais, the clever French musician who after-
ward wrote for her the pantomime play ^ ' Mirka, ' '
in which she appeared at Nice for the benefit of the
local charities. M. Pollonnais also set to music the
lines of a lullaby which I had written specially for
Mme. Patti to sing in the scene where the supposed
governess watches tenderly over her dying child
in the nursery at East Lynne. This same lullaby
she afterward sang in public in London and in
other places.
327
Thirty Years of
The performance of the wordless '^East Lynne'^
on August 17 was perhaps the most complete ar-
tistic achievement in this direction accomplished
at Craig-y-nos Castle. Certainly it yielded the
finest piece of acting on Mme. Patti's part that I
have known her to give at her own theatre. It
was also notable for a curious incident. Eeaders
familiar with the novel or play will remember that
when Mme. Vine revisits her former home she is
dressed in widow 's ' ' weeds. ' ' Such a costume was
worn by Mme. Patti, and very charming she looked
in it. One person, however, objected strongly to
her having donned a crape dress. That person was
M. Nicolini. After the curtain had fallen he ex-
pressed himself on the subject in no measured
terms, declaring that such attire ^^portait mal-
heur,'' and that he did not like to see his wife in
a costume which she might one day be compelled
of necessity to wear. I pointed out to him that
he might make the same complaint about the pei-
gnoir worn by Violetta when dying, or the prison
garb of Marguerite in the last act of ^ ^ Faust. ' ' But
he refused to see it, and remarked, ^^Elles n'etaient
jamais veuves, cettes femmes-la ! ' ' ^^lich was per-
fectly true; and, having regard to subsequent
events, his objection would appear to have been not
altogether unjustifiable.
It was in June of the succeeding year that Mme.
Patti hbnored me by being the centre of attraction
at a dinner-party which I gave at Whitehall Court,
followed by a large reception whereat some three
328
Musical Life in London
hundred guests, well known in the musical, theat-
rical, and literary worlds, were bidden to meet the
diva. The peculiarity of this function was that
it collected a good many celebrities who, for various
reasons, are seldom brought together. For this,
no doubt, good luck was largely responsible. One
may know and invite many famous folk to dine
or sup during the London season ; but it will rarely
happen that ninety-five per cent, are disengaged
and willing to come. In this instance I did not re-
ceive more than twenty refusals, all told. Thus
it fell that when I took Mme. Patti in to dinner
she found on her right her old friend Jean de
Eeszke, whom she had not met since the glorious
^^Eomeo'' time in Paris, eight years before.
Edouard was, of course, there, facing his old con-
frere Nicolini, who chatted about his pet Cremona
violins with the perennial Alfredo Piatti. Among
others present were my father 's old friend and pu-
pil, Lord Suffield, and Lady Suffield (now lord and
lady in waiting to King Edward and Queen
Alexandra), Sir Edward and Lady Lawson, Sir
Augustus and Lady Harris, and Miss Zelie de Lus-
san. Charles (now Sir Charles) Wyndham and
Miss Mary Moore also came to dinner— or perhaps
it was later in the evening; and with them the
young American actress Miss Fay Davis, not
then known on the stage, who recited some pieces
with infinite piquancy and grace. Altogether it
was an interesting gathering.
The feature of the musicale, however, was a per-
is ^ ^ ^
329
Thirty Years of
formance of Schumann's pianoforte quartet (Op.
47) by four distinguished artists: Fanny Davies,
Sarasate, Hollander, and Piatti— a combination
rare even at the ^'Pops/' and, above all, to be
appreciated for the honor conferred by the great
Spanish violinist, who seldom took part in a cham-
ber work beyond the "Kreutzer'' or some other
duet-sonata. So anxious was he for the quartet
to go well that he insisted upon a rehearsal, and
from Paris fixed the date himself. Here is his
note:
Paris, 23 -5 -'96.
C'est entendu, cher ami, je partirai le 3 juin. Ar-
rangez la repetition pour le 4 dans I'apres-midi.^
Votre,
Pablo Sarasate.
What was more, he declined the invitation to
dine in order that he might be able to eat his
early meal at the Bristol, as was usual on evenings
when he had to play. It is hardly necessary to
add that the performance of the quartet was su-
perlatively fine. From first to last it went with
magnificent spirit; and it was listened to with
keen enjoyment by an assemblage whose interest
seemed evenly divided as to the music, the exe-
cutants, and the foremost group of auditors, headed
by the peerless ^ ^ guest of the evening. ' ^
To-day Craig-y-nos Castle is the scene of fewer
1 Translation : It is agreed, dear friend, I shall leave on Juno 3.
Arrange the rehearsal for the 4tli, in the afternoon.
330
Musical Life in London
entertainments upon a large scale. Still, the Baron-
ess Cederstrom is as dearly attached as ever to her
mountain home, and, when she is not traveling
abroad or professionally, she spends practically her
whole time there. She sings at twenty or twenty-
five concerts every year (three or four in London,
the rest in the provinces), and is received every-
where with the old-time ecstasy and enthusiasm.
Nor can one feel astonished at the vast assemblages
which gather at these familiar functions, since Ade-
lina Patti yet retains her title, *^The Queen of
Song, ' ' by virtue of tones still pure, rich, vibrant,
and exquisitely musical; by the magic of an art
which no other singer of her day has exemplified
with the same wondrous measure of beauty and
perfection. This extraordinary survival of power
and popularity makes it difficult to foretell even
approximately when the great prima donna will
bring her unexampled career to a close. She has
now agreed to undertake a farewell tour in the
United States ; but it is not her intention to appear
there in opera. Thus the American public will not
have an opportunity to realize the full extent of
that amazing development of her dramatic genius
to which I have more especially made reference.
But Patti is always Patti; and whatever the con-
ditions, her final coming will be the occasion of a
rapturous welcome from the citizens of the country
in which she was reared.
331
CHAPTER XV
A meteoric opera scheme— Sullivan's "Ivanhoe" — How com-
posed: how "run to death"— Debut of Eugene Oudin— David
Bispham appears in " La Basoche"— Oudin and Tschaikowsky :
a singular coincidence— The Russian master's journey to Cam-
bridge—First and last meetings— "Cavalleria Rusticana" at
London and Windsor — Jean de Reszke's American d^but:
his impressions.
THE early months of 1891 witnessed a very
remarkable operatic experiment. New forces
were at the back of it, and it was destined to mark
the climax of the modern development of Eng-
lish opera. Had the scheme succeeded in its in-
tegrity, the operatic history of the next dozen
years wonld have had to be rewritten; as it was,
an individual artistic triumph was hampered by
a Quixotic managerial policy, and the ambitious
enterprise resulted in a regrettable failure.
The late Richard D'Oyly Carte was an excel-
lent man in his own sphere of action at the Savoy
Theatre. He thoroughly understood the business
of mounting the unique comic operas of Grilbert
and Sullivan, and of sending them round the
globe in the hands of well-trained companies. But
about the organization and management of serious
opera he knew absolutely nothing. Shade of
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Oarl Rosa! Imagine the fatuity of building a
large and costly theatre on Shaftesbury Avenue,^
bestowing upon it the high-sounding title of
the ''Royal English Opera," engaging a double
company, and opening it with a repertory of —one
work! Never was the initial error of placing the
whole of the golden eggs in a single basket more
surely followed by the destruction of the goose
that laid them! Great was the faith of D'Oyly
Carte in Arthur Sullivan. But not even the ge-
nius of that fine musician, as exemplified in his
first grand opera, ''Ivanhoe,'' was capable of
withstanding so rude a test. Like one of the
thoroughbred horses he loved so well, ''Ivanhoe"
ran a great race, achieved a ' ' best on record, ' ' and
then collapsed from sheer exhaustion. It has
never raced since.
Sullivan wrote ''Ivanhoe," so to speak, with
his life-blood. He slaved at it steadily from May
till December, and put into it only of his best.
For weeks before he finished it he was inacces-
sible; the Christmas of 1890 was no holiday for
him. The rehearsals had begun long before the
orchestration was ready, and the opera was to
be produced on January 31, 1891, at the latest.
By the first week in the new year the score was
completed. Then Sir Arthur told me I might come
to Queen's Mansions to hear some of the music.
To my great delight, he played several of the
^ It has for the past eleven years been the popular place of
amusement known as the Palace Theatre of Varieties.
335
Thirty Years of
numbers for me. I found them picturesque, dra-
matic, original, and stamped throughout with the
cachet which the world understands by the word
^ ^ Sullivanesque. ' ' I was particularly struck by
the Oriental character of the harmonies and ^in-
tervals'' in Rebecca's song, *^Lord of our chosen
race," and I told Sullivan that I thought nothing
could be more distinctively Eastern or even He-
braic in type.
^^That may well be so," he rejoined. ^^The
phrase on the words 'guard me' you especially re-
fer to is not strictly mine.^ Let me tell you where
I heard it. Wlien I was the ' Mendelssohn scholar '
and living at Leipsic, I went once or twice to the
old Jewish synagogue, and among the many East-
ern melodies chanted by the minister, this quaint
progression in the minor occurred so frequently
that I have never forgotten it. ' ' It certainly comes
in appropriately here.
The libretto of ''Ivanhoe" was from the fluent
pen of Julian Sturgis, the author of ' ' Nadeshda. ' '
It won praise as a skilful and fairly dramatic
adaptation of Scott's novel and a polished exam-
ple of poetic lyric-writing. The work generally
I described at the time as ''one which rivets the
attention of the spectator from the moment the
curtain is raised ; which is strong and sympathetic
^ The passage in question is tliis :
f^^^^r^^^,
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&E^:
Guard me, guard me, Guard me, Je-ho-vah, guard me.
Musical Life in London
in action and picturesque in story; which is rich
in melody and replete with musical interest and
contrast; and which, finally, is presented amid a
wealth of surroundings and with a perfection of
executive detail such as English opera never en-
joyed before." It was acclaimed with the utmost
warmth by an audience that included the com-
poser's ever-constant friends and patrons, the
Prince and Princess of Wales, and the Duke and
Duchess of Edinburgh. The cast on the first night
comprised Marguerite Macintyre (Rebecca), Es-
ther Palliser (Rowena), Ben Davies (IvanJioe),
Norman Salmond (Richard Coeur de Lion),
Ffrangcon Davies (Cedric), Charles Kenning-
ham (De Bracy), Avon Saxon (Friar Tuck),
Charles Copland (Isaac of York), and that gifted
American barytone, Eugene Oudin, who made a
brilliant debut in the part of the Templar. The
composer held the baton.
The opera was at once scheduled ^'for a run,"
with two distinct casts, the alternative group in-
cluding Miss Thudichum as Rebecca, Lucile Hill
as Roivena, Franklin Clive as King Richard, Jo-
seph O'Mara as Ivanhoe, and Richard Green as
the Templar. The strain of this test was marvel-
ously borne. For no fewer than one hundred and
sixty consecutive representations did ^^Ivanhoe"
draw large and enthusiastic audiences— far and
away the longest unbroken run ever accomplished
by a serious opera. Then, at the end of July, it
was withdrawn, and the house closed until No-
337
Thirty Years of
vember, when an English version of Andre Mes-
sager's successful comic opera ^^La Basoche''
was brought out. This did fairly well, but it is
noteworthy to-day only from the fact that it en-
abled Mr. David Bispham, by his clever singing
and acting, to make a deep impression at his first
appearance upon the London stage.^ D'Oyly
Carte now doubtless imagined that he possessed
the foundation of a repertory, and he revived
^'Ivanhoe'' to run alternately with ^^La Ba-
soche"— Barton McGuckin filling the title-role,
while Medora Henson was the Rowena, But the
public quickly undeceived the too sanguine mana-
ger. It stayed severely away. The drawing power
of Sullivan's beautiful opera had been exhausted;
and on January 16, just a fortnight short of
twelve months after its auspicious opening, the
^^ Royal English Opera'' was finally closed— the
strangest commingling of success and failure ever
chronicled in the history of British lyric enter-
prise !
^ The brilliant stage career of David Bispham virtually had
its beginning with his singularly picturesque embodiment of the
Due de Longueville in ''La Basoche. " There was about it an
element of fantastic hizarrerie that was singularly attractive, and
which at once drew attention to the unique personality of the
artist. From that time forward, in Avhatever branch of his art
he has elected to labor, David Bispham has consistently earned
distinction and applause; and his success has been equally em-
phatic on both sides of the Atlantic. His gift of versatility is
extraordinary. Alike in serious and comic characters, in Wag-
nerian music-drama and light French opera, in oratorio and
Lieder, in declamation both spoken and sung, he has proved him-
self a thoroughly intellectual, accomplished, and original artist.
338
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at German Lieder, and made quite a hit at the
Philharmonic by his admirable declamation in the
'^Hans Heiling'' air. His versatility was fur-
ther demonstrated by a number of translations of
French lyrics, all very neatly and smoothly done.
He had quite a passion for amateur photography,
and loved to obtain unconventional pictures of all
the artistic celebrities who would consent to ^ ^ sit. ' '
Among these was the group of the two de Eeszkes
and Lassalle at their breakfast-table at the Con-
tinental, of which he sent me a copy accompanied
by this note:
31 Linden Gardens, W., October 21, 1893.
My dear Klein:
I send you per same post a print (proof) from my
negative, ''Birds of a Feather," with every compliment.
I shall not forget that it was through you and in your
house that I first met the great singers who have since
become my friends.
It is an extraordinary coincidence, I think, that I
should have put down for my part in the "Pops" this
afternoon (and as long as a fortnight ago) four of my
favorite Gounod songs. ^ Also that I am singing at the
offertory in St. George's, Albemarle Street, to-morrow
morning, under promise a fortnight old, the same mas-
ter's ** There is a green hill."
Faithfully and fraternally yours,
Eugene Oudin.
Alas! only eighteen months later I stood in the
same church in Albemarle Street grieving be-
^ The death of Gounod had been announced three days previously.
342
Musical Life in London
side the bier of that sweet singer himself. He
had fallen a victim to a mistaken sense of duty,
literally wearing himself to death by nursing a
friend who lay sick in his house. That was in-
deed a sad and premature cutting off of a useful
life. I had spoken to Oudin at the Birming-
ham Festival (October, 1894), and remarked upon
his thin, careworn aspect. Yet how beautifully
he had sung the music of Br. Marianus in the
third part of Schumann's ^ ' Faust " ! It was all he
had had to do at the festival; but it was enough,
he had made his mark. Then he went home, and
in a month's time was no more.
The premature decease of Eugene Oudin is al-
ways associated in my mind with that of Tschai-
kowsky. The reason lies in a rather curious
chain of circumstances. In the autumn of 1892
the Russian master 's opera ' ' Eugeny Onegin ' ' was
produced in English at the Olympic Theatre, un-
der the management of Signor Lago, with Eu-
gene Oudin in the title part. It met with poor
success, and after a few nights was withdrawn.^
In the June of 1893, Tschaikowsky came to Eng-
land to receive the honorary degree of ' ^ Mus. Doc. ' '
at Cambridge University; the same distinction
being simultaneously bestowed upon three other
celebrated musicians— Camille Saint-Saens, Max
^ The whole undertaking was ill-timed and ill-placed. One of
its few creditable features was the debut in England of the bary-
tone Mario Ancona, who sang first in "La Favorita ' ' and after-
ward in ' ' Lohengrin. ' ' He was engaged the following season
for Covent Garden.
343
Musical Life in London
Yet, had there been nothing else, this venture
would have been remarkable on account of the
unusual number of American singers who made
their debuts in the two operas. Many of them
subsequently were to earn wide repute, while two
at least—Eugene Oudin and David Bispham—
were to achieve universal fame. I can recall few
instances of a popularity so spontaneous as that
vouchsafed to Eugene Esperance Oudin. Alike
as artist and as man he rapidly became a gen-
eral favorite. Among his warmest admirers
was Jean de Eeszke; and I remember how pro-
foundly he interested the famous tenor by his
exquisite mezza voce, his perfect union of the
'^registers," and the rare ease with which he pro-
duced his upper notes. His voice was singularly
sweet and sympathetic in quality, yet not lack-
ing in dramatic power; and none who saw him
as the Templar will readily forget the extraor-
dinary dignity of his assumption or the intense
passion of his singing. His rendering of the fine
air, ^^Woo thou thy Snowflake,'' was to my mind
the vocal feature of the opera.
Oudin had made himself a name both as a
church singer and in opera before leaving the
United States; but in London he seems at once
to have risen to a higher plane, for there was
need just then of a barytone possessing his special
gifts. Thanks to his parentage, he had a pure
French accent, and sang delightfully in that
tongue. He also worked for some time with me
341
Thirty Years of
Bnich, and Arrigo Boito. By a happy chance
I traveled down to Cambridge in the same car-
riage with Tschaikowsky. I was quite alone in
the compartment until the train was actually
starting, when the door opened and an elderly
gentleman was unceremoniously lifted in, his
luggage being bundled in after him by the por-
ters. A glance told me who it was. I offered
my assistance, and, after he had recovered his
breath, the master told me he recollected that
I had been presented to him one night at the
Philharmonic. Then followed an hour's delight-
ful conversation.
Tschaikowsky chatted freely about music in
Russia. He thought the development of the past
twenty-five years had been phenomenal. He at-
tributed it, first, to the intense musical feeling of
the people which was now coming to the sur-
face; secondl}^, to the extraordinary wealth and
characteristic beauty of the national melodies or
folk-songs ; and, thirdly, to the splendid work done
by the great teaching institutions at St. Petersburg
and Moscow. He spoke particularly of his own
Conservatory at Moscow, and begged that if I
ever went to that city I would not fail to pay him
a visit.^ He then put some questions about Eng-
land and inquired especially as to the systems
of management and teaching pursued at the Royal
^ I did visit Moscow in the summer of 1898, and, on presenting
my card as an English friend of the lamented master, was re-
ceived by the Conservatory officials with every attention and
cordiality.
344
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Musical Life in London
Academy and the Royal College. I duly explained,
and also gave him some information concerning
the Guildhall School of Music and its three thou-
sand students. It surprised him to hear that Lon-
don possessed such a gigantic musical institution.
*'I don't know," he added, ^^ whether to con-
sider England an ^unmusical' nation or not.
Sometimes I think one thing, sometimes another.
But it is certain that you have audiences for mu-
sic of every class, and it appears to me probable
that before long the larger section of your public
will support the best class only. ' ' Then the recol-
lection of the failure of his ^^Eugeny Onegin'^
occurred to him, and he asked me to what I at-
tributed that— the music, the libretto, the perform-
ance, or what? I replied, without flattery, that
it was certainly not the music. It might have been
due in some measure to the lack of dramatic fibre
in the story, and in a large degree to the ineffi-
ciency of the interpretation and the unsuitability
of the locale. ^ ^ Remember, ' ' I went on, ^Hhat
Pushkin's poem is not known in this country, and
that in opera we like a definite denouement, not
an ending where the hero goes out at one door and
the heroine at another. As to the performance,
the only figure in it that lives distinctly and pleas-
antly in my memory is Eugene Oudin's superb
embodiment of Onegin/'
^^1 have heard a great deal about him," said
Tschaikowsky ; and then came a first-rate opportu-
nity for me to descant upon the merits of the.
347
Thirty Years of
American barytone. I aroused the master's in-
terest in him to such good purpose that he prom-
ised not to leave England without making his
acquaintance,— ^^ and hearing him singf I queried.
^^Not only will I hear him sing, but invite him to
come to Russia and ask him to sing some of my
songs there,'' was the composer's reply as the
train drew up at Cambridge, and we alighted.
Tschaikowsky was to be the guest of the Master
of Merton, and I undertook to see him safely be-
stowed at the college before proceeding to my hotel.
Telling the flyman to take a slightly circuitous
route, I pointed out various places of interest as we
passed them, and Tschaikowsky seemed thor-
oughly to enjoy the drive. When we parted at
the college, he shook me warmly by the hand and
expressed a hope that when he next visited Eng-
land he might see more of me. Unhappily, that
kindly wish was never to be fulfilled.
The group of new ^^Mus. Docs." was to have in-
cluded Verdi and Grieg, but these composers were
unable to accept the invitation of the University.
However, the remaining four constituted a suffi-
ciently illustrious group, and the concert at the
Cambridge Guildhall was of memorable interest.
Saint-Saens played for the first time the brilliant
pianoforte fantasia ^^ Africa," which he had lately
written at Cairo; Max Bruch directed a choral
scene from his *^ Odysseus"; and Boi'to conducted
the prologue from ^ ^ Mefistof ele, " Georg Henschel
singing the solo part. Finally, Tschaikowsky di-
348
Musical Life in London
reeled the first performance in England of his
fine symphonic poem, ^^Francesca da Rimini,'' a
work depicting with graphic power the torment-
ing winds wherein Dante beholds Francesca in the
'^Second Circle" and hears her recital of her
sad story, as described in the fifth canto of the
^ ^Inferno.'' The ovation that greeted each mas-
ter in turn will be readily imagined. A night or
two later I met Boito at a reception given in his
honor by my friend Albert Visetti, and the re-
nowned librettist-composer did me the pleasure of
accompanying me to the last Philharmonic con-
cert of the season, at which Max Bruch conducted
a couple of works and Paderewski played his
concerto in A minor.
Tschaikowsky and Eugene Oudin duly met.
The latter sang the ^'Serenade de Don Juan"
and other songs of the Russian master, and so
delighted him that the visit to St. Petersburg and
Moscow was immediately arranged. Its success
and its attendant sorrow are alike set forth in the
following letter:
Hotel de France, St. Petersburg,
November 8, 1893.
My dear Klein:
You have, of course, read and commented on the ter-
ribly sudden demise of Tschaikowsky. You can imagine
its effect on me ! I missed him in Petersburg on my way
to Moscow, and there received his message that he would
not fail to be present at my debut in the latter city.
Instead came a telegram of sudden sickness, danger
349
Thirty Years of
passed, and hope. This was on Saturday last. On Mon-
day morning a telegram came to speak of— death!
On Wednesday last he was sound and well ; he drank
a glass of unfiltered water from the Neva, and cholera
laid him low! It is awful! The musical societies
throughout Russia are in mourning, and the concert
which was to have been my debut in Petersburg (next
Saturday, the 11th) is postponed for a week. It will be
made up entirely of works of the dead master. I shall
sing the '^ Arioso" from "Onegin" and some of his
romances, and the joint recital will take place the fol-
lowing day.^
So my visit here is prolonged most unexpectedly.
My debut in Moscow was a magnificent success. I
was recalled and encored again and again, . . . and the
notices are very fine.
Yours in haste, but ever fraternally,
Eugene Oudin.
And now to return to 1891. So far I have spoken
only of ^^Ivanhoe^' and ^^La Basoche." At Co-
vent Garden we had the heaviest opera season
on record. Twenty operas were mounted, none
of them novelties, but six for the first time under
Harris's directorate; and ninety-four representa-
tions were given in sixteen weeks. The total re-
ceipts amounted to £80,000 ($400,000), and the
impresario made a profit. It is interesting to note
how the repertory and the personnel were begin-
^ Oudin was accompanied on this trip by his wife, a talented
singer who frequently appeared with him at his London recitals,
but who, on the death of her husband, relinquished her career as a
vocalist and became a teacher.
350
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Musical Life in London
ning to settle down into the mold or formula with
which the American public was soon to become
so familiar. Take the operas— twelve perform-
ances of ^^ Faust"; nine of ^'Lohengrin''; eight
each of ^^Les Huguenots'^ and ''Romeo et Juli-
ette' '; seven of ''Carmen"; six of "Orfeo"; five
each of "Don Giovanni," " Tannhauser, " and
"Rigoletto"; four of "Otello" (with Jean de
Reszke in the title-role), "Traviata" and "Ma-
non"; three of "Le Prophete" and "Mireille";
two of " Mefistof ele, " "Die Meistersinger, " "Lu-
cia," "Martha," and "Aida"; and (poor Bee-
thoven!) one of "Fidelio." Again, among the fif-
teen new-comers of the season were Emma Eames,
Sybil Sanderson, Van Dyck, and PlauQon, form-
ing part of a company of no fewer than forty ar-
tists, which included Jean and Edouard de Reszke,
Lassalle, Maurel, Ravelli, Devoyod, Isnardon, and
Montariol; with Nordica, Melba, Albani, Zelie de
Lussan, Rolla, Regina Pinkert, Bauermeister, Giu-
lia Ravogli, and the French contralto Mme. Ri-
chard. Altogether a very remarkable collection,
and in its make-up thoroughly suggestive of the
Metropolitan Opera House, New York.
On the second night of the season (April 7)
Emma Eames made her London debut as Margue-
rite in "Faust," that being her first appearance on
any stage save the Paris Opera, where she had
been a favorite for the two preceding years. Her
singularly rich, flexible soprano voice, her refined
and expressive singing, and her graceful bearing
353
Thirty Years ot
won for her warm admiration and instantaneous
success. She looked Goethe's heroine to the life,
and her conception of the character charmed alike
by its naturalness and its tender womanly feeling.
Four nights later she essayed the part of Elsa, for
the first time, to the Lohengrin of Jean de Reszke,
and again succeeded in creating a highly favorable
impression. Later on she made a hit as Juliette
and gave a delightful rendering of the music of
Mireille, both of which characters she had studied
under the personal guidance of Gounod. Her Mi-
reille was, I recollect, a particularly captivating
performance, and it is perhaps a little odd that it
should not have subsequently filled a more con-
spicuous place in the repertoire of this talented
American artist.
Equally unprecedented was the amount of op-
eratic work done in the autumn. Besides D'Oyly
Carte's hapless enterprise, a French season was
given by Augustus Harris at Covent Garden with
the concours of artists of the Paris Opera-Co-
mique, comprising the graceful Mile. Simonnet,
that fine singer Mme. Deschamps-Jehin, M. En-
gel, M. Bouvet, and M. Lorrain. They gave for
the first time there Alfred Bruneau's clever opera,
^'Le Reve,'' and Gounod's ^'Philemon et Baucis."
Yet a third venture was an Italian season given
by Signor Lago at the Shaftesbury Theatre. This
was notable chiefly for the first production in
England of Pietro Mascagni's ^^Cavalleria Rus-
ticana," which, I need scarcely say, created a sen-
354
Musical Life in London
sation. The performance (conducted by Arditi)
was not to be compared with those subsequently
heard at the leading opera-house, but it served;
and the fame of the young Italian composer
spread with marvelous rapidity. It should be
noted that Marie Brema here made a modest but
effective debut in opera as Lola; while the cast
further comprised Adelaide Musiani (Santuzza),
Grace Damian (Lucia) y Brombara {Alfio), and
Francesco Vignas (Turiddu).
These artists gave a performance of ' ' Cavalleria
Eusticana'' before Queen Victoria in the Water-
loo Chamber at Windsor Castle on November 25,
1891. Her Majesty was greatly impressed by
the new opera, and in the following summer, after
Mme. Emma Calve had made her London debut
as Mascagni's Sicilian heroine, the Queen com-
manded her to sing at Windsor, together with the
tenor De Lucia; Signor Tosti being at the piano.
The two artists gave a selection from ^^Caval-
leria,'' and, by Her Majesty's permission, went
through their scene with action and gestures pre-
cisely as though they were performing it upon the
stage. So earnestly did they throw themselves
into their parts, and with such characteristic sen-
timent did they sing, that the venerable sovereign
was deeply touched, and presented the artists with
handsome mementos before they left the castle.
I may note, by the way, that ^^ Cavalleria Rusti-
cana" was first performed in English by the Carl
Rosa Company at Liverpool on January 14, 1892.
355
Thirty Years of
This same winter season was marked by ope-
ratic events of the greatest import to the United
States. Encouraged by his previous successes,
Henry Abbey determined to do things on a yet
grander scale, and, with the aid of new associates,
launched out upon a double enterprise of for-
midable magnitude. One of those associates was
destined thereafter to play an important part in the
direction of opera on both sides of the Atlantic—
I refer to Maurice Grau. For the moment Abbey
held the guiding reins, and nobody knew exactly
how much he owed to the energy and tact of his
junior partner. At the same time, the experience
earned by Maurice Grau during this period was
of inestimable value to him. He became familiar
with the countless nuances of operatic manage-
ment; he acquired his characteristic habit of
blunt, straightforward dealing with artists of
every rank; he developed his excellent business
qualities, and learned the knack of gauging to a
nicety the requirements of public taste. A finer
practical schooling in the delicate duties of an
impresario could not possibly have been devised.
Nor could anything have been more timely.
For the moment had now arrived when the
American manager was to keep in closer touch
with the London stage; when the ^^ tricks and
manners'' of Covent Garden were to be immedi-
ately imitated at the Metropolitan Opera House;
when the same collections of artists and works
were to serve for both countries. The double
356
Copyright, 1898, by A. Dupout, M. 1.
EMMA EAMES
AS JULIETTE
Musical Life in London
venture run by Abbey consisted of a big series of
Patti concerts and a five months' season of grand
opera with a company headed by Jean de lieszke.
The renowned prima donna awakened, as usual,
the utmost enthusiasm. At each concert a scene,
in costume, from an opera was given, Mme. Patti
being supported by Del Puente, Novara, and other
artists, with Arditi as conductor. On the other
hand, the debuts in America of Jean and Edouard
de Reszke were at the outset more successful in
an artistic than a financial sense. It seems to
have taken time for the public to realize that in
the new Polish tenor a really great artist had
come upon the scene. A small section of the press
also appears to have hesitated, though not the
leading critics of New York and Chicago, who
quickly proclaimed the advent of a star of the first
magnitude. That M. de Reszke himself was, on
the whole, gratified by his reception may be gath-
ered from the following letter:
[Translated from the French.]
Auditorium Hotel, Chicago,
December 9, 1891.
My dear Friend :
I beg to inclose some press cuttings from this place in
order that you may learn of the success of your friends
in America. I have sung twice in '^ Lohengrin," twice in
''Faust," twice in the "Huguenots," once in "Romeo,"
twice in "Otello," and once in "Lohengrin" at Louis-
ville. That makes ten representations in a month. The
359
Thirty Years of
public is very warm, very enthusiastic toward us.
Edouard, for his part, besides the operas with me, has
sung Leporello and in ' ' Sonnambula. " You would
confer on us a great pleasure by showing the cuttings to
Harris, to Higgins, and to your colleagues, in order that
London may know how the artists of its choice have been
winning honors here. I sing to-morrow *'Aida," with
Lilli Lehmann, for my farewell in this city; then on
Thursday I leave for New York, where I am to make my
debut on Monday in ' ' Romeo. ' ' Trusting you are in good
health, with a hearty hand-shake, believe me.
Your devoted and ever grateful,
Jean de Reszke.
In New York the brothers were met by their
friend Lassalle, who made his first appearance
as Nelusko in ^ ^ L 'Af ricaine ' ' ; while, as Selika,
Lillian Nordica also rejoined the company and her
former comrades. That night was the most bril-
liant of the season, and the cable messages to
Europe told of unequivocal success all round.
Yet the ' ' business, ' ' it appeared, was by no means
first-rate, and, in the end, the entrepreneurs must
have fared but moderately. The revanche, how-
ever, was to come in the succeeding years, when
the American public knew Jean de Reszke better
and learned to appreciate the true majesty of
his transcendent gifts. He, for his part, quickly
reciprgcated the warm feeling shown him by
American audiences, and would frequently assure
me how profoundly he esteemed their good opin-
ion. To show this I quote an interesting letter
360
Musical Life in London
he wrote me from Chicago in 1894, immediately
after the production of Massenet's ^^Werther^':
[Translated from the French.]
Chicago, March 31, 1894.
My dear Friend:
In an artist's life every new role is a stage in that
long journey toward the summits of art, toward the
beautiful, the infinite. ''Werther," the other night,
was for me one of those unanimous successes wherein
the heart — the science of causing it to beat in one's audi-
ence and before one's audience — stood in true proportion
to every artifice. The true path — that of emotion — that
goal for which I am striving all my life — was reached
in the presence of a public which did not understand
the words, but which divined by instinct that my con-
ception of the character arose from that simplicity, that
pure, unexaggerated truthfulness which age and matur-
ity alone can confer upon the thinking artist. . . .
I am sending you the cuttings from the newspapers
here ; show them to Harris, who, I hope, will mount the
opera for me. Mancinelli conducted the orchestra ad-
mirably. Eames and Arnoldson are two adorable little
sisters. In a word, I believe that to the cultivated
London public, accustomed as it is to novelties, it will
come as a delightful surprise. I sing regularly three
times every week, and my voice is excellent. At this
present moment I am reaching my forty-first perform-
ance. Accept, my dear friend, from Edouard and my-
self, a thousand affectionate remembrances, together
with a hearty shake of the hand.
Your devoted,
Jean de Reszke.
361
Musical Life in London
Three montlis later, Harris did mount **Wer-
ther" at Covent Garden, with the Chicago cast, for
the rentree of Jean de Reszke ; but the opera failed
to please. Not even the genius of the artist could
invest with enduring interest a work consistently
sombre, undramatic, and dull. Yet, taken indi-
vidually, his impersonation was, in its way, one
of the supreme achievements of his career. His
voice at this period was at its very finest; nor
shall I ever forget his wonderful singing and act-
ing in the duet of the third act, where ^^his beau-
tiful tones fairly compassed the entire gamut of
passionate longing and despair.''
362
CHAPTER XVI
German opera at Covent Garden— Mahler as conductor— De-
buts of Alvary and Schumann-Heink — A growing repertory —
Victor Maurel and Manuel Garcia: The renowned teacher
vindicated — Debut of Clara Butt — Leoncavallo and Mascagni
in London — How " Cavalleria " was first rehearsed at Rome —
"I Eantzau"— Mascagni at Windsor Castle— More State Per-
formances.
"/^HI va piano va sano, ed anche lontano." The
\y old Italian proverb applies with some force
to the progress made by Sir Augustus Harris
toward the development of the important branch
of opera which yet awaited his attention. The
popularity of French opera in the French lan-
guage would seem to have been the natural step-
ping-stone to Geiman opera in the German lan-
guage. But I am not quite sure that Harris found
his subscribers as ready as he himself was to risk
the step. Annual pilgrimages to Bayreuth had
not yet become a favorite amusement of the
British aristocracy. Lady de Grey and her
friends were said to be inclined to look askance
at any proposition for the enlargement of the
opera scheme beyond the lines which had hitherto
proved so successful. However, it is to be pre-
sumed that the opposition, if there was any worth
Thirty Years of
speaking of, speedily broke down; for in the
early spring of 1892 the impresario boldly an-
nounced his intention of giving a series of Ger-
man performances at Covent Garden in mid-sea-
son, with the aid of a special troupe of German
artists engaged through the medium of the Ham-
burg manager, Herr Pollini.
By the press and the public this intimation was
received with such unqualified satisfaction that
Sir Augustus immediately followed it up with a
further announcement to the effect that he would
set apart seven Wednesdays in June and July
for a subsidiary subscription, covering perform-
ances of * ' Der Ring des Nibelungen, ' ' with ^ ^ Tris-
tan und Isolde'' and ^^Fidelio." This was an
adroit move. Wednesday was not yet a regular
subscription night at the opera, and by thus util-
izing it Harris not only secured a perfect guar-
antee against loss, but offered his German sup-
porters the opportunity of displaying themselves
in grand- and pit-tier boxes, which they could not
otherwise have obtained for love or money. The
bait was greedily seized and a splendid subscrip-
tion resulted.
Ultimately, too, the company engaged for these
representations proved worthy of the establish-
ment to which it became temporarily allied. I
was vQry anxious to see Richter filling the conduc-
tor's place, and at my suggestion Harris made
an effort to obtain the great man's services. But
in vain; he was already definitely engaged for
364
Musical Life in London
the concerts of the forthcoming Musical Exhibi-
tion at Vienna. In these circumstances, Herr
Pollini recommended a young conductor named
Mahler, who had been doing excellent work at
Hamburg. Harris at once made terms with him;
and thus for a single season did London afford
hospitality to the talented musician who was
shortly after to succeed Hans Kichter as chef-
d'orchestre, and eventually to become director, of
the Imperial Opera House at Vienna.
It was arranged that Mahler should come early
in the season. Ten years had elapsed since the
^^Ring" or any section of it had been performed
in a London opera-house, and in order not to
interfere with the other work it was deemed ad-
visable to procure a separate orchestra to rehearse
and accompany the Wagner music-dramas. I
made Mahler's acquaintance soon after his arri-
val. Smaller of stature than Anton Seidl, his
clean-shaven, studious countenance nevertheless
reminded me of the accomplished conductor
whom I had seen at Her Majesty's in 1882; nor
was he unworthy to be compared with him in
temperamental qualities, well-balanced force, and
rare concentration of energy. For a man who
knew so very little English, I never came across
any one so bent on speaking that language and
no other. I met Mahler frequently at Harris's
office, but could never induce him to carry on a con-
versation in German. He would rather spend f^YO^
minutes in an effort to find the English word he
365
Thirty Years of
wanted than resort to his mother tongue or allow
any one else to supply the equivalent. Consequently,
a short chat with Mahler involved a liberal allow-
ance of time. For the same reason, his orchestral
rehearsals proved extremely lengthy and, to the
spectator, vastly amusing. In order to famil-
iarize his men with their exacting task, he would
take his band in sections, and sj^end hour after
hour going over the various scenes of the tetral-
ogy and ^'Tristan.'' He knew his scores virtu-
ally by heart, and infused into his executants that
unity of spirit which only a born conductor can
inspire. So it came about that the performances
given under his direction were distinguished by a
highly creditable excellence of ensemble.
Absurd as it may seem, the ' ' Nibelungen ' ' dra-
mas were given out of their proper order because
a certain great Bayreuth artist insisted upon mak-
ing his English debut in a particular character.
Herr Max Alvary wished to be seen for the first
time here in his fine impersonation of Siegfried;
consequently, we had to have ^'Siegfried'' first;
then ^^Eheingold'' and ^ ^ Walkiire, ' ' and then
^ ^ Gotterdammerung ' ' to wind up with. I know
not whom to blame the more, Alvarv for demand-
ing such a piece of vandalism, or Harris for al-
lowing it; but in either case ^^de mortuis nil nisi
bonum," and there I halt. Certainly Alvary was
an ide'al Siegfried; and he had no less an ideal
Briinnhilde in Rosa Sucher, who unfortunately
was recalled to Germany after a night or two.
366
From a photograpli by K. Bieber, Berlin
ALVARY
AS SIEGFRIED
Musical Life in London
Her place was taken by the gifted and lamented
Frau Klafsky, whom I admired as a truly great
Wagnerian artist. Other notable debutantes were
the pojoular Frau Schumann-Heink, Fraulein
Bettaque, Frau Ende-Andriessen, Fraulein Traub-
mann, beside Greve, Lieban (inimitable Mime),
and Zoltan Dome, who shared the leading roles
with the veterans Reiehmann and Wiegand.
So extensively did these German representa-
tions draw that Sir Augustus determined to give
some of them on off-nights at Drury Lane, mov-
ing the scenery back and forth from one house
to the other. The device paid him well, and, be-
side the Wagner works, he added to his repertory
Nessler's ^'Trompeter von Sakkingen,'' with
Eeichmann, Wiegand, Lorent, Landau, Bettaque,
and Schumann-Heink in the principal parts. Al-
together the experiment proved a complete suc-
cess, and set at rest all doubts as to the wis-
dom and desirability of mixing the undiluted
German with those other operatic elements which
Sir Augustus Harris (dropping the traditional
^'Italian'') had this season for the first time com-
bined under the new official title of ^ ^ Royal Opera,
Covent Garden."
Relieved of his shrieval duties, the genial im-
presario now set to work to beat all previous rec-
ords ; and he fairly accomplished the task. Apart
from the German venture, he produced no fewer
than three novelties, viz.: Mascagni's ^^L'Amico
Fritz," Bemberg's ** Elaine," and Isidore de
369
Thirty Years of
Lara's *^ Light of Asia/' this last being an Ital-
ianized stage version of a setting, in cantata form,
of portions of Sir Edwin Arnold's poem. None
of these earned more than passing favor, albeit
^^L'Amico Fritz," in virtue of Mascagni's charm-
ing treatment of a delicious pastoral story and
Calve 's exquisite embodiment of Suzel, deserved
a better fate. But not even the united efforts of
Jean de Reszke, Plangon, Melba, and Deschamps-
Jehin could awaken more than a shadowy interest
in M. Bemberg's saccharine opera. The general
repertory was much the same as in the previous
year, only more extensive; while lingual incon-
gruities were perhaps more flagrant than ever.
For example, we would hear in alternation the
*^ Flying Dutchman" in Italian (with Lassalle as
Vanderdecken) ; ^ ' Tannhauser " in German; ^^Lo-
hengrin" in Italian (Van Dyck singing the title-
role in French) ; an English opera, ^^La Luce dell'
Asia," in Italian; *^Le Prophete" in French,
with an Italian chorus; and so forth. Evidently,
this feature of the bad traditions of old had yet
to be improved; but in other respects the work
done and the progress made were alike remarkable.
In the course of the year 1892 Augustus Harris
mounted at Covent Garden and Drury Lane the-
atres as many as thirty operas, giving a grand
total of one hundred and fifty representations.
In the midst of this abnormally busy season,
M. Maurel elected to deliver a lecture at the Ly-
ceum Theatre on ^'The Application of Science to
370
Musical Life in London
the Arts of Speech and Song/' It was partly an
amplification of a conference given shortly before
at Milan and published at Paris under the title of
^^Le Chant renoue par la Science/' wherein the
distinguished barytone promised a book that
should more or less completely revolutionize the
art (or ^'science") of singing. For that book an
impatient world is still waiting. The lecture, how-
ever, duly came off, and, apart from mere prom-
ises, its main feature proved to be an exceedingly
virulent tirade against the coup de la glotte} This
would not have mattered much had it not hap-
pened that Manuel Garcia himself was present,
and had to '^possess his soul in patience'' while
M. Maurel executed some ridiculous imitations of
what he considered to be the indispensable vocal
concomitants of the coup de la glotte— 2i term de-
rided only by certain Paris teachers who have
misunderstood and misdirected its use. Age and
dignity alike compelled Signor Garcia to sit still
and treat with silent contempt this ill-timed and
unjustifiable attack upon his method. When the
lecture was over, however, I offered him the col-
ums of the ^ ^ Sunday Times " as a medium for re-
plying to M. Maurel 's assertions. On the spur of
the moment, he accepted and sent a short account
of the lecture, written in his own terse, trenchant
manner. Then, thinking better of it, he decided
not to take any personal part in the discussion, and
requested me not to print his *^copy."
^ See reference to this subject on page 27.
371
Thirty Years of
This threw the onus of reply upon me; and the
answer proved so far effectual that M. Maurel
was moved to make a protest, in other London
papers, against any contradiction of his '^scien-
tific argumentation,'' save by M. Garcia himself,
and not even then unless supported by something
beyond *' simple denial." Accordingly, the maes-
tro then consented to write a letter to the '^ Sun-
day Times, ' ' confirming the statement that he had
found M. MaurePs illustrations of the coup de
la glotte '^ extremely exaggerated," but declining
that gentleman's invitation to discuss the subject-
matter of his lecture, and adding that '4t would
be utterly impossible to argue upon theories which
still remain to be revealed." Here the incident
closed, and, as I have already said, the singing
world is still awaiting the revelation of M. Maurel 's
precious theories. Meanwhile, however, there are
people who still think it their duty to assume the
Maurelesque attitude, and boldly impeach a
method for which no adequate substitute, real or
imaginary, has yet been found. It is chiefly with
the view of showing the hollowness of the attacks
occasionally leveled at the coup de la glotte that
I have recalled an episode which otherwise might
have been allowed to dwell in oblivion.
During the early '^ nineties" Sir Augustus Har-
ris was the proprietor of the *' Sunday Times."
For some time he had been bent on possessing a
newspaper, and would have actually started a new
one on his own account had it not happened that
372
Copyright by A. Dupont, IM. Y.
CALVE
AS CARMEN
Musical Life in London
the old weekly came into the market once more.
I was responsible for his buying it, and, as mat-
ters turned out, neither he nor I had occasion to
regret the step, despite the obvious delicacy of a
position which, under ordinary conditions, might
have involved the independence of a critic. I am
bound to say, however, that Harris allowed me my
full freedom; and, inasmuch as I had all along
been an ardent supporter of his enterprise, my
attitude was in no way influenced or disturbed
through his temporary connection with the paper.
He eventually sold it— for exactly the same sum,
I believe, that he paid for it— to the present pro-
prietor, Mrs. Frederic Beer.
During the winter of 1892-93, the indefatigable
impresario revived the hal masque at Co vent Gar-
den, thus furnishing the jeunesse doree of the Eng-
lish metropolis with a form of entertainment
which has ever since been keenly appreciated and
regularly kept up. It is a common saying that the
English take their pleasures sadly; but I may
assert, without fear of contradiction, that these
fancy-dress balls are a good deal less artificial and
more spontaneous in their gaiety than the bals-
masques held in the opera-houses in Paris and
Brussels. That, I admit, is about all there is to
be said in their favor.
It was during the same winter that Clara Butt
made her first appearance in public. The need
for a new concert contralto of the first rank had
become pressing. Trebelli had died suddenly at
375
Thirty Years of
Etretat the previous summer ; and in the February
of 1894 an even more sudden attack of heart disease
closed the career of Janet Patey as she was leav-
ing the platform at a concert at Sheffield. It
was curious that midway between these two sad
events there should have appeared upon the
scene the artist who, whatever her vocal attributes
as compared with those of her gifted predecessors,
indisputably holds at the present time the position
of leading English contralto.
Miss Clara Butt made her debut, while yet a
scholar of the Koyal College of Music, in a per-
formance of Gluck's '^Orpheus,'' given by the
pupils of the college at the Lyceum Theatre in
December, 1892. Her unusually lofty stature
lent to the embodiment of Orpheus a dignity and
impressiveness that were at least equaled by the
organ-like sonority and volume of her ample
tones. Then she could neither act nor sing;
but there was intelligence in her work, there
was an evident faculty for imitation, and, above
all, there was glorious material in her powerful,
luscious voice. She continued her studies for
some time in London and afterward in Paris,
striding always toward popularity by a ^' royal
road'^ that few young singers are fortunate
enough to find. To-day she is a much improved
vocalist, well up in the traditions of oratorio,
and needing only complete control of her organ
and fuller resources of expression and color to
attain the highest level of artistic efficiency. Her
376
Musical Life in London
husband, Kenneiiey liumford, has a sympathetic
light barytone voice with a style marked by ad-
mirable refinement and distinction.
A posthmnous light opera by Goring Thomas,
called the ^'Golden Web,'^ ran for a time at the
Lyric Theatre in the spring of 1893, after a trial
production by the Carl Rosa Company at Liver-
pool. It was a charming example of the Auber
school, and was ably conducted by Mr. Herbert
Bunning— himself a composer of recognized
merit, whose opera ^'La Princesse Osra'^ was to
be mounted at Covent Garden nine years later.
That this Englishman will one day make a big
mark in the world of music I instinctively feel.
His is a singularly graceful talent, and of orches-
tral effects he is a consummate master. When he
comes across a really good libretto we shall per-
chance discover in him the successor to Arthur
Goring Thomas. Another light-opera debut at
this period was that of the clever Spanish pianist
and composer, Senor Albeniz, who conducted his
*' Magic Opal" during a run of considerable du-
ration. A vastly superior work, however, was his
^'Pepita Jimenez,'' an exquisitely poetic opera
founded upon Juan Valera's famous novel by
Frank B. M. Coutts. I witnessed the production
of ^^Pepita Jimenez'' at the Liceo Theatre, Bar-
celona, in January, 1896, and admired it so much
that I often wonder why the little chef-d'oeuvre
has traveled no farther.
The features of the season of 1893 were the first
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visits to London of Leoncavallo and Mascagni,
and the production there of their respective op-
eras, ^'Pagliacci^' and ^'I Rantzau.^' The fame
of Leoncavallo's sensational opera had preceded
it, and the public expected something remarkable.
They were not disappointed. I have rarely seen
an audience so breathless with excitement over
the development of an opera plot. The effect of
the little tragedy was augmented by the burning
intensity of De Lucia, whose portrayal of the hap-
less Canio's anguish and suffering was a triumph
of realism. His touching soliloquy at the end of
the first act was delivered with an abandonment
of feeling that completely carried away his audi-
tors. Very fine, too, was Ancona's rendering of the
already famous Prologue; deliciously pure and
sweet was Melba's vocalization in the haUateUa
for Nedda; excellent were the new-comers Rich-
ard Green and Bonnard as Silvio and Peppe;
while Mancinelli's conducting left not a ]3oint
undiscerned throughout. Leoncavallo, modest
and unassuming, waited quietly in the background
till the end, and then had to be forced on to the
stage by the artists to acknowledge the ovation
that awaited him. This was quite early in the
season (May 19), and Leoncavallo remained in
London for several weeks. I found him to be
a man of great culture and strong intellect. He is
a poet as well as a musician, and in both arts he
reveals the grasp of a profound thinker.
Mascagni belongs to a different type. In Leon-
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cavalio there is a dash of the refined and diplo-
matic Frenchman; in the composer of ^^Caval-
leria Kusticana'' one perceives, within as well as
without, the impulsiveness, the impetuosity, the
strong racial temperament of the full-blooded
Italian. Quick as lightning in speech and gesture,
excitable to the last degree, Mascagni carries his
heart upon his sleeve, making no effort, appar-
ently, either to conceal his sentiments or his
thoughts. Here, plainly stamped, are the frank
nature, the dogged perseverance, of the man who,
under the most terribly adverse circumstances,
was able to compose an opera which exhales the
very essence of warm Southern passion, the very
breath of free peasant life, the very spirit of Si-
cilian jealousy and revenge. Sordid and repul-
sive the story is and always must be; yet the
music never fails to lift it from out the depths
of its dramatic coarseness, and imparts to it a
glamour and an intensity of color that few can re-
sist. More than once has Mascagni told the tale
of the pecuniary worries and the physical suffer-
ings that he and his family underwent while he
was writing the score of ^^Cavalleria" in his
effort to win the prize offered by the Milanese
publisher Edoardo Sonzogno. No wonder the
news that he had won it nearly bereft him of his
senses.
One day, at a dinner given by De Lucia (at the
house of his friend Mazzoni in Charlotte Street,
Bedford Square), Mascagni told us the sequel. And
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if the story of the composition was touching, the
less familiar account of his journey to Rome and
the staging of ^^Cavalleria" at the Costanzi Thea-
tre was unquestionably as quaint and striking.
At the time the news of his success reached him,
he was residing in the small Sicilian town of Ceri-
gnola, where he filled the post of municipal con-
ductor and organist at a tiny salary. Now the
Sonzogno prize had not been awarded to Mas-
cagni's opera alone: it was divided between two
(if not among three) of the competitors. Conse-
quently, there was considerable doubt as to which
of the successful works would be mounted first,
or when and where the performance would be.
Quite unexpectedly, one morning early in May,
1890, Mascagni received an intimation that ^^Ca-
valleria Rusticana'' had been placed in rehear-
sal at the Costanzi, and that his presence was
forthwith required in Rome.
The request came to hand at an unfortunate
moment. So straitened were his circumstances
that he actually did not possess sufficient cash to
meet the expenses of the journey. However, he
contrived to borrow the necessary sum from a
friend, and arrived in Rome the next day but one,
in good time for the rehearsal. I should like to
quote Mascagni 's own words in describing what
took place at the theatre, but to give them in
cold English, without the aid of his eloquent ges-
tures and his wonderful undercurrent of mimicry
and ^'asides," would be to deprive them of half
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their significance. Enough that he had barely
stepped inside the stage door before he felt him-
self upon *'hot coals/' Not a soul knew him. He
had to introduce himself to the manager, who
in turn presented him to the company as ^Hhe
young composer who had been fortunate enough, ' '
and so on. Every one was studiously polite. The
celebrated tenor Stagno, who was to honor him
by creating the role of Turiddu, made a frigid
bow; and the popular Gemma Bellincioni, who
had accepted the part of Santuzza, offered him
at least three fingers of her right hand. In short,
it was a trying moment— particularly so for a
youthful musician who was nervous, anxious, and
—not over well fed.
When the rehearsal began, it quickly became
evident that the principals had already invented
and arranged most of their '^ business, ' ' and had
no thought of submitting their ideas to Mascagni
for his approval. Once or twice it was, ^'Maes-
tro, do you like thisT' or ^'Do you care for
that!'' But, generally speaking, his opinion was
not sought; and, although his experience as mu-
sical director of a touring operetta company
might have enabled him to drop a useful hint, he
wisely refrained from interfering where such tre-
mendously distinguished artists were concerned.
In point of fact, too, he was like a man in a
dream— a veritable dream of paradise. Only
once did he venture to ask a question, and that
was at the outset of the rehearsal, when Stagno
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called for a chair just as he was about to begin
the Sicilian serenade which Tiiriddu is heard sing-
ing in the prelude. With all humility he begged
to inquire what the chair was for. (His imitation
of the tenor's tone and attitude when he replied
was exquisite.)
^* Pardon, caro maestro! This is my own little
affair. When I want to sing an air con hrio I
always like to think of ^ La donna e mobile, ' which
I sing so well because I am all the time holding
on to the back of a chair. Now, when I sing your
serenade the curtain is down. Very well; no one
sees me. I intend therefore to have my chair here
to sing it just as if it were the ^Kigoletto' air.
You will see, the effect will be superb!''
It did not seem to have occurred to Stagno that
the serenade in ^ ^ Cavalleria " is heard approach-
ing from the distance and gradually dying away
again. But never mind ; he wanted his chair, and
Mascagni was very glad to let him have it. For
the rest, the rehearsal passed off satisfactorily
enough, and the opera went extremely well on the
18th. How it created a furore that was to con-
vert Mascagni into an idol and carry his name
and music to the farthest corners of the civilized
globe are facts that need no narration here. His
debut at Covent Garden took place on June 19,
1893, when he conducted ^^L'Amico Fritz" with
Calve, De Lucia, Pauline Joran, and Dufriche in
the cast. He was rapturously greeted by an audi-
ence which included so many ^^ royalties" that
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there was not room for half of them in the Queen's
box. As a matter of course, he speedily became
the ^^lion^' of the season.
The elements were thus ripe for a fresh triumph
when the time came for the production of ^*I
Rantzau'' on July 7. Mascagni's third opera had
seen the light at Florence only in the previous
November. The book appeared to offer a prom-
ising combination, being written by the librettist
of ^^Cavalleria Rusticana^' and founded upon a
novel, '^Les Deux Freres,'' by MM. Erckmann-
Chatrian, the authors of ^'L'Amico Fritz." Un-
fortunately, the material of the plot proved alto-
gether inadequate for a four-act opera, while the
love interest which so largely predominated in
^'L'Amico Fritz'' was here subordinated to the
events of a sordid quarrel between two wilful, ill-
tempered brothers. Moreover, Mascagni treated
the quarrel in an intensely tragic vein, which is
nowhere more strikingly exemplified than in the
long and elaborate finale to the first act. This
ambitious piece of writing I have described as
strong, rugged, original, and clever. ^^Neverthe-
less, a big effort of the imagination is required to
suppose an entire village so upset by a squabble
over a field as to stand in two sections in the
open piazza, shouting at each other for ten min-
utes by the clock!" Even a street row in Nu-
remberg, aroused by a matter of genuine public
interest, was depicted by Wagner in less time than
that.
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Thirty Years of
So, despite the presence and cooperation of the
genial young composer, ^^I Kantzau'^ was not a
success. The principal parts were sung by Melba,
De Lucia, Ancona, David Bispham, and Castel-
mary, and the opera was mounted in thoroughly
efficient style. In the following week Mascagni
found some consolation for this disappointment
in the congratulations of the Queen, before wliom
he conducted the second act of ^^L'Amico Fritz''
and ^'Cavalleria Rusticana." I had the pleasure
of accompanying him to Windsor on this occa-
sion. We had barely arrived at the Castle in the
afternoon before Her Majesty sent for the com-
poser, and bestowed upon him the unusual honor
of an audience in the private apartments just
before going on her customary drive. The Queen,
speaking sometimes in Italian, but mostly in
French, reminded him that she had already heard
^ ^ Cavalleria, ' ' and expressed the deepest interest
in his music. We took dinner with the members
of the household, and the performance began at
half-past nine.
Her Majesty, who was accompanied by Princess
Henry of Battenberg, Prince and Princess Chris-
tian, Princess Henry of Prussia, Princess Louis
of Battenberg, and the Grand Duke of Hesse, en-
joyed the representation immensely, and directly
afterward sent for Signor Mascagni, together with
Mme. Calve, Sir Augustus Harris, Signor Vignas,
and Signor Ancona, all of whom received hand-
some souvenirs. The composer was presented
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with a portrait of Her Majesty in a silver frame
bearing the autograph inscription, ^ ' Victoria R. I.,
July 15, 1893." In connection with this function
I may mention, as a circumstance without prece-
dent in operatic management, that Harris simul-
taneously gave in London two other representa-
tions,— namely, ^ ^ Faust '^ at Covent Garden, and
^'Die Walkure'' at Drury Lane,— employing al-
together upward of five hundred persons in the
three performances.
In the same month, also. Sir Augustus gave, by
royal command, a State performance at Covent
Garden, in honor of the marriage of the present
Prince and Princess of Wales, when ^' Romeo et
Juliette '^ was given with a cast including Jean
and Edouard de Reszke, Plangon, and Melba,
Mancinelli conducting. This was the third royal
gala representation at the opera within ^ve years.
As already noted, the first had been for the Shah
of Persia, and the second was in honor of the Em-
peror and Empress of Germany. At each of these
celebrations the decoration of the auditorium was
ui)on an increasing scale of gorgeous and lavish
splendor; but not so that of the vestibule or
grand staircase, nor even that of the foyer, since
the impresario disliked the idea of spending large
sums upon beautifying a building of which he
was still only a yearly tenant. Hence an amusing
bit of good-humored criticism from the Prince of
Wales (now King Edward VII) on the night of
the Kaiser's visit in 1891. During one of the in-
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tervals Harris was sent for and presented to their
Imperial Majesties. Before leaving, he availed
himself of the opportunity quietly to ask the
Prince of Wales whether he was pleased with the
decorations. His Royal Highness replied that he
was delighted; then, taking the manager apart,
he added in an undertone :
^'Delighted with everything, Harris, but the old
carpet in the foyer. It has been there so many
years ! Eeally, it was too bad not to put down a
new one for a night such as this ! ' '
Needless to add that the hint was acted upon
long before the next gala night.
By the way, on the occasion of the Kaiser's
State visit to the opera there was very nearly a big
disappointment. Toward midday Sir Augustus
received notice from Jean de Reszke that he was
suffering from a bronchial attack and would be
unable to sing. The tenor had undertaken to ap-
pear in scenes from ^ ^ Lohengrin, ' ' ^^Les Hugue-
nots,'' and "Romeo," and consequently his in-
disposition was a very serious affair. Being by
chance at Covent Garden when the news arrived,
I undertook to go round to the Continental and
see if anything could be done before definitely
altering the programme. I found M. de Reszke
unwell, indeed, but by no means voiceless.
Whereupon I laid before him arguments in favor
of his making a superhuman effort to sing, rather
than wholly disappoint so mighty and puissant a
personage as the Emperor William II. I sug-
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gested that if he could not appear in all three ex-
cerpts, he might at least sing in one, which would
be a great deal better than not appearing at all.
Ultimately, the considerate artist gave way, and
I returned to Harris the triumphant bearer of
the following characteristic note:
[Translated from the French.]
My dear Friend :
Klein has just asked me to sing at least one act of the
three that I had promised you. Consequently I choose
that of Romeo as the least fatiguing. Look upon this,
my dear friend, as an evidence of my desire to spare
you a portion of the trouble occasioned by my indisposi-
tion. And in doing so I risk hurting my voice ! Make
an announcement. A thousand greetings !
Jean.
Two English novelties were added to the rep-
ertory of Co vent Garden during the last month
of the season; but neither was sung in the ver-
nacular, and neither attained to more than a suc-
ces d'estime. Isidore de Lara^s ^^Amy Robsart"
was set to a French libretto founded by Sir Au-
gustus Harris and Paul Milliet upon Scott's
* * Kenilworth ' ' ; and the principal interpreters
were Alvarez, Lassalle, Bonnard, Castelmary, and
Emma Calve, Bevignani conducting. Villiers
Stanford's ^'Veiled Prophet," originally com-
posed to the English text of William Barclay
Squire (who derived it from Moore's *'Lalla
391
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Rookh"), had been produced in German at Han-
over in 1881, and was now sung to an Italian ver-
sion by Mazzucato. The cast comprised Lillian
Nordica, Lucile Hill, Vignas, and Ancona, and
the composer conducted. In addition to these
works, Harris mounted Bizet's ^^Djamileh,'' Emil
Bach's ^ * Irmengarda, " and (at Drury Lane) Ha-
levy's *^La Juive." The German performances,
which did not begin until the end of June, were
given under the direction of the celebrated May-
ence conductor, Emil Steinbach. Again was Max
Alvary the principal tenor; while among the more
notable recruits were Frau Moran-Olden, Frau
Reuss-Belce, Fraulein Meisslinger, and the tal-
ented Polish contralto, Fraulein Olitzka.
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CHAPTER XVII
A double artistic jubilee— August Manns honored— Garcia' s
"Hints on Singing"— Opera in 1894— New orchestral institu-
tions — Opening of Queen's Hall — A procession of famous
conductors— Richard Strauss— With Seidl at Bayreuth— A
Wagner anecdote— Covent Garden in 1895— New pianists.
THE English jubilee of Joseph. Joachim and
Alfredo Piatti was celebrated on March 22,
1894^ by a reception at the Grafton Galleries,
which the leading journal declared to be the most
interesting event of its kind that had taken place
in London since the memorable Liszt reception
at the Grosvenor Gallery eight years before. For
the organization of this function I was largely
responsible as honorary secretary of the execu-
tive committee; and my duties constituted a veri-
table labor of love, a glad tribute to the two great
artists who, by a remarkable coincidence, had
made their first appearance before the British pub-
lic within a few weeks of each other in the spring
of 1844.
Unlike Liszt, neither of the honored guests on
this occasion performed a solo upon his instru-
ment. The only music was that furnished by what
the late Lord Leighton was pleased to describe
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as ^ ^ a good band. ' ' ^ The formal proceedings of
the evening consisted of nothing more than the
presentation of illuminated addresses,— one read
by Sir Alexander Mackenzie, the other by Sir
George Grove,— to which each artist in turn made
an extempore reply. The addresses naturally laid
stress upon the ties of friendship and affection
that united the recipients to British lovers of
music, and they gave expression to the deep admi-
ration felt by the latter, as well as their gratitude
to the distinguished artists for the inestimable
benefits that had accrued to the cause of music
in England through their yearly presence there.
The replies, both delivered under the influence of
profound emotion, were essentially characteristic
of the modesty and single-hearted devotion of the
two musicians. Piatti created much amusement
by his reference to a ^^ little fat boy in tight trou-
sers,'' whom he saw make his first appearance in
^ In this respect the Berlin celebration of Dr. Joachim 's ju-
bilee was, of course, far more interesting. Then a grand concert
was given, at which every member of the orchestra was a former
student of the Hochschule, every individual fiddler a pupil of the
''King of Violinists'^; while, to make things perfect, the hero
of the night was ultimately persuaded to take his violin and bow
from three of his fair musical children and delight his excited
auditors with a solo by Bach. I went over expressly to attend
that unique and brilliant function. The orchestra was directed
by Herr Steinbach, and as long as I live I shall never forget the
magnificent quality of the tone of those violins or the superb
elan that marked the performance of Weber's "Euryanthe"
overture. Every player was an artist of repute, and the total
value of the stringed instruments was computed at a quarter of
a million dollars.
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London in 1844. ^'He had blooming cheeks and
a short jacket, and he stepped up on the platform
at the Philharmonic Concert and played Beetho-
ven's violin concerto in such style that everybody
was astonished. It was my good fortune to be very
much associated with the little boy in after years ;
and his name was that of my friend, the great
artist, Joseph Joachim. '^
The renowned violinist, for his part, referred to
his introduction by Mendelssohn to that hospita-
ble land, and to the great advance which the Eng-
lish people had made in their appreciation of
chamber music, and instrumental music generally,
during the past fifty years. He remembered how
once in those far back days, when he had suggested
that he should play at a concert Beethoven's
lovely romance in F, he was informed there was
a danger that the composition would be thought
too classical. Now the quartets of the great mas-
ters were constantly played, and a large section
of the people heard them with delight. If he had
helped in any way toward the advance that had
taken place, he was proud and happy; for he
looked upon England as his second home, where
he had met with no envy, but only the kindest
appreciation, and to which country he was bound
by the closest ties of friendship. These words
will not be quickly forgotten by an assembly that
was, indeed, of a nature to do honor to the occa-
sion. Art was represented by Lord Leighton,
P. R. A., Mr. Alma Tadema, P. A., and Mr. J. C.
397
Thirty Years of
Horsley, R. A. ; the law by the Lord Chancellor,
Judge Meadows White, Q. C, and Sir George
Lewis; and music by, among others, Sir Arthur
Sullivan, Sir Joseph Barnby, Sir John Stainer,
Sir Charles and Lady Halle, Sir Charles Hubert
Parry, Sir J. F. Bridge, Mr. Edward Lloyd, Mr.
Santley, Mr. Louis Ries, Mr. Ludwig Straus, Mr.
S. Arthur Chappell, Professor Villiers Stanford,
Mr. August Manns, Mr. F. H. Cowen, Mr. W.
H. Cummings, Miss Agnes Zimmermann, Miss
Fanny Davies, Mr. Leonard Borwick, Mr. Alfred
Gibson, Dr. C. Harford Lloyd, and Mr. Franklin
Taylor.
It was my good fortune to undertake similar
administrative duties in connection with the suc-
cessful reception held at the same galleries in
May, 1895, to celebrate the seventieth birthday of
the popular Crystal Palace conductor, August
Manns. In this instance the members of the Crys-
tal Palace band volunteered their services out of
compliment to their chief, who directed an in-
teresting programme; while an address was read
and presented by his old colleague. Sir George
Grove, eulogizing the veteran conductor for the
noble attitude he had assumed toward British mu-
sic and British musicians. Furthermore, Queen
Victoria's musical second son, the late Duke of
Saxe-Coburg and Gotha, attended the reception,
and pinned upon Mr. Manns 's breast the Coburg
.Order for ''Kunst und Wissenschaf t. ' '
Apropos of birthday honors, I may also mention
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Musical Life in London
that on March 17, 1894, Manuel Garcia entered
upon his ninetieth year; and his brother profes-
sors at the Royal Academy of Music seized the
opportunity to present him with a silver tea- and
coffee-service, accompanied by an illuminated ad-
dress. Later in the same year, the venerable
maestro brought out his second and last text-book
upon the art wherein he had labored with such
distinguished success for nearly three quarters
of a century. In the compilation of ^' Hints on
Singing,'' as this instructive catechism is called,
I was fortunately able to render Signor Garcia
material assistance; and the help thus gladly ten-
dered finds gracious acknowledgment in the pref-
ace. The *' Hints" are published in the United
States as well as in England, but have not yet
attained the wide recognition that they deserve.^
The bewildering rapidity with which novelty
succeeded novelty during the Covent Garden sea-
^ The following quotation from the preface of ' ' Hints on Sing-
ing ' ' affords an admirably succinct statement of Signor Garcia 's
views upon the degeneracy of the coloratur singer : ' ' At the
present day the acquirement of flexibility is not in great esteem,
and were it not, perhaps, for the venerable Handel, declamatory
music would reign alone. This is to be regretted, for not only
must the art suffer, but also the young fresh voices, to which
the brilliant florid style is the most congenial; the harder and
more settled organs being best suited for declamation. It would
not be difficult to trace the causes of the decline of the florid
style. Let it suffice, however, to mention, as one of the most
important, the disappearance of the race of great singers who,
beside originating this art, carried it to its highest point of
excellence. The impresario, influenced by the exigencies of the
modern prima donna, has been constrained to offer less gifted
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son of 1894 has had no parallel either before or
since. Within the space of three weeks (June 10
to June 30) Sir Augustus Harris mounted Mas-
senet's "Werther'' and ^^La Navarraise, ' ' Al-
fred Bruneau's ^'L'Attaque du Moulin," and
Frederic Cowen's ^'Signa''; the second of these
being given for the first time on any stage. Both
the French composers came over to superintend
the production of their works. Massenet was as
much disappointed by the comparative failure of
^'Werther'' as he was delighted over the enthu-
siasm that greeted that *^blood-and-thunder''
little music-drama ^^La Navarraise/' which, how-
ever, owed its temporary vogue chiefly to the ge-
nius of Emma Calve. ^'L'Attaque du Moulin''
won a more genuine artistic success, even if it
did not secure a permanent place in the repertory,
and an ineffaceable impression was made by the
gifted mezzo-soprano. Mile. Delna, who then ap-
peared here for the first time. Her Marcelline
was a superb creation; and Bouvet's embodiment
of the kind-hearted old miller, Pere Merlier^ was
also extremely fine. The performance, directed
by Philippe Flon, was of astonishing excellence.
M. Bruneau assured me he found it equal in every
respect to that at the Opera-Comique, and he—
and accomplished virtuose to the composer, who in turn has been
compelled to simplify the role of the voice and to rely more and
more upon orchestral effects. Thus, singing is becoming as much
a lost art as the manufacture of mandarin china or the varnish
used by the old masters."
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Musical Life in London
professional critic as well as composer — is by no
means easy to please.
Mr. Cowen^s ^^Signa'^ was not sung in Eng-
lish. Originally composed to a libretto by the
late Gilbert a Beckett (founded on Ouida's novel),
and intended for the defunct Royal English Op-
era, it had been produced in November, 1893, at
the Dal Verme Theatre, Milan, where it was, of
course, sung in Italian. It was now given at Co-
vent Garden with the same foreign text, the prin-
cipal parts being filled by Mme. de Nuovina, Ben
Davies, and Ancona, while the composer con-
ducted. So with another English novelty, ^^The
Lady of Longford, ' ' produced later in the season :
the book was by Augustus Harris, and the mu-
sic had been set to it by Emil Bach; but for the
performance Paul Milliet, a Parisian librettist, was
called in, and the opera was sung in French by
Emma Eames, Alvarez, and Edouard de Reszke.
Neither of these productions attained to more
than passing favor.
To the above record must be added two new
Italian operas, Verdi's ^^Falstaff and Puccini's
^^Manon Lescaut," both of which were brought
out early in the season; and so well did the for-
mer please that no fewer than eight performances
were given of the old master's exquisite musical
comedy. The German representations, as in the
previous year, took place at Drury Lane, Klaf-
sky and Alvary again heading the list of artists,
with a new conductor, Herr Lohse, who returned
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Thirty Years of
to London in the same capacity in 1902. The fea-
tures of the Carl Rosa season were a stage ver-
sion of Berlioz 's ^ ^ Faust ' ' ; a new romantic opera,
^^Jeanie Deans,'' written by Joseph Bennett and
composed by Hamish MacCunn ; and the first pro-
duction in England of Humperdinck 's ^^ Hansel
und Gretel." At Covent Garden and Drury Lane
alone, however,— that is to say, quite apart from
the Carl Rosa productions,— ninety- two perform-
ances of twenty-seven operas were given in eleven
weeks, and of these works seven were mounted for
the first time in London.
Amid this orgy of operatic activity, another no-
table development was in progress. I refer to the
growing taste for orchestral music of the highest
class. It was welcome for more than one reason.
Accurately reading the signs of the times, it was
impossible to shut one's eyes to the fact that ora-
torio was on the downward path; that the once
characteristic English love for choral music was
distinctly waning. Without the Royal Choral So-
ciety in London, without the prosperous provincial
festivals and the legion of small choral societies
in all parts of the kingdom, the oratorio and the
cantata to-day might be looked upon in the light
of a ^'negligible quantity." The vast majority
of metropolitan music-lovers would never miss
them. It is more difficult to account for this than
for the decline of institutions like the Crystal
Palace and the Popular Concerts. The latter have
lost their hold ui^on the public as the centre of ar-
402
Musical Life in London
tistic movement has shifted from one scene to an-
other, as the old supporters have died out, or as
the famous performers most intimately associated
with these enterprises one by one have disappeared
from the platform.
The opening of the new Queen's Hall, in Lang-
ham Place, added a locale of much-needed interme-
diate size to the number of London's concert-
rooms. Any hope that it might be put to profitable
use for choral performances was fairly dispelled
by the experiences of a season or two. On the
other hand, under the energetic management of
Mr. Robert Newman, the popularity of orchestral
music largely increased. In this direction the ap-
petite of the public seemed to grow by what it fed
upon, and the advent of a new and talented Eng-
lish conductor in the person of Mr. Henry J. Wood
added just that touch of personal magnetism, of
attractive individuality, without which the finest
collection of instrumental performers may appeal
in vain. In a word, the Queen's Hall band and
their leader quickly won renown, and their con-
certs were soon to be regarded as synonymous with
well-chosen schemes, interesting novelties, and ad-
mirable performances.
Nor did the etfect of this growing love for or-
chestral music end here. It brought augmented
support to the Philharmonic Society, and it led to
the establishment at Queen's Hall of an annual
series of concerts in frank imitation of those given
at St. James's Hall under the direction of Hans
403
Thirty Years of
Eichter. For this undertaking, managed by Mr.
Alfred Schulz-Curtius, London was favored, sea-
son after season, with a veritable procession of
more or less renowned foreign conductors. First
and foremost, in 1894, came Felix Mottl, the gifted
Karlsruhe Kapellmeister; then, later in the same
year, the youthful and ambitious Siegfried Wag-
ner. In 1895 the late Hermann Levi paid a solitary
visit; subsequently came Felix Weingartner, Ni-
kisch, and Richard Strauss. But for at least two
or three concerts every year until the enterprise
was abandoned did Felix Mottl direct perform-
ances of Beethoven symphonies and Wagner ex-
cerpts that were distinguished by a very high order
of merit. During the same period, in a fitting
spirit of emulation, Mr. Robert Newman secured
the services of the famous French conductors MM.
Lamoureux and Colonne. At first these musicians
brought over their own orchestras, and some mag-
nificent work was done by both. The plan, how-
ever, proved too expensive, and, while M. Colonne
did not repeat his visit, his accomplished rival was
content, after one or two seasons, to utilize, when
he came, the excellent material of the Queen 's Hall
band. This he did until just before his death,
which occurred in 1899.
It was at the concert conducted by Hermann Levi
on April 25, 1895, that that fine artist, Milka Ter-
nina, made her London debut. This was the only
occasion on which I ever heard her sing ^'off the
key.'' The high English pitch was still employed
404
From a photograph ))y Davis ife Sanford, N. Y.
TERNINA
Musical Life in London
then at Queen's Hall, and it frequently upset her
intonation ; beside, her singing lacked the freedom
and inspiration that it acquires in a stage per-
formance. I remarked at the time: ^^Fraulein
Ternina has a splendid voice, and is a singer of re-
markable intelligence; but it is evidently only in
combination with her qualities as an actress that
she can display these rare gifts in their true light. ' '
And my words were fully borne out when the Mu-
nich soprano made her first appearance at Covent
Garden, three years later, in her superb embodi-
ment of Isolde. Her triumph in that instance was
brilliant and complete.
Siegfried Wagner came twice to London. In the
autumn of 1894 he challenged criticism as a con-
ductor only, and was * ^ let off ' ' pretty lightly. He
wielded the baton with his left hand, but his beat
was firm and distinct, and his readings, if color-
less, were intelligent and clear. In the summer of
1895 he appeared as a composer, and presented to
the world, for the first time, a symphonic poem
written after Schiller's ' ^ Sehnsucht. " This work
revealed promise, but it was ^^the promise of the
child who tries to run before he can walk, the pre-
maturely exposed talent of the artist who repre-
sents on canvas some great problem of human life
before he has mastered the art of mixing his col-
ors." At the same concert he gave a practical
demonstration of his father's ideas concerning the
interpretation of Beethoven 's ' ' little ' ' symphony in
F. On the other hand, his reading of the *^Der
407
Thirty Years of
Freischiitz ' ' overture was ^ ' simply remarkable for
wilful eccentricity and a flagrant disregard for the
obvious intentions of the composer."
Richard Strauss paid his first visit to England
in December, 1897. His songs and chamber pieces
were tolerably well known, but of his orchestral
works only three had so far been heard in London—
namely, the symphony in F (April 12) and the sym-
phonic poems, ^^Till EulenspiegeP ' and *^Also
sprach Zarathustra. ' ' He now brought with him
the * ^ Tod und Verklarung, ' ' wherein is dejoicted the
death struggle of a man before whose mental vision
there passes the panorama of a wasted life, fol-
lowed by the man's transfiguration, as his re-
deemed soul passes out of earthly existence into
a higher state. The second section of this remark-
able work made an especially deep impression, and
at the close the composer was overwhelmed with
applause. Strauss 's gifts as a conductor were made
manifest in very positive fashion. In his own mu-
sic startling contrasts, powerful crescendos, and ex-
citing climaxes naturally abounded. In the inter-
pretation of Mozart and Wagner he displayed an
admirable command of dynamic effects, ranging
from the most delicate to the most sonorous; and
in everything alike he revealed the intellectual in-
sight and authority, the artistic culture, the mag-
netic force, the strong individuality of a musician
of genius.
The name of Anton Seidl may perhaps be missed
from the group of leading German conductors enu-
408
Musical Life in London
merated above. As a matter of fact, however, Seidl
scarcely had an opportunity of displaying his pow-
ers in London as a concert conductor. His appear-
ances there were solely in connection with opera—
the ^ ' Nibelungen " performances at Her Majesty's
in 1882, and the German representations at Covent
Garden in 1897. In the course of the latter I saw
him frequently, and one night he accompanied me
to a Richter concert at St. James's Hall. He had
not seen his great Viennese rival upon the platform
for many years, and was especially curious to hear
his rendering of Tschaikowsky 's ^ ^ Pathetique "
symphony. He was delighted with every feature
save one. Directly after starting the second (5-4)
movement, Richter laid down his baton and al-
lowed the band to proceed without guidance to the
end of the piece. Seidl knit his brows and looked
stern, but did not utter a word till the room was
ringing with applause. Then he turned to me and
said: ''I wish he had not done that. It was to
show that, in spite of the awkward rhythm, his men
could keep perfectly together without the beat, and
maintain the necessary precision all through the
movement. So they did ; but the result was a very
machine-like performance. It was much less crisp
and animated than it would have been if Richter
had conducted it with his arm as well as with his
eyes!'^
The last time I saw Seidl was at Bayreuth in
1897. He was conducting ^^ Parsifal" that sum-
mer; and what a glorious treat it was to listen to
409
Thirty Years of
the orchestra under him, immediately after the
blurred and ponderous execution of the *^Nibelun-
gen'' under Siegfried Wagner! On one of the
''off days'^ of the festival, Seidl invited his friend
Francis Neilson and myself to lunch with him at
the ' ' Schwarze Adler. ' ' ^ The usually quiet, re-
served musician was disposed to ' ' come out of his
sheir' that afternoon, for when lunch was over he
developed a communicative mood such as neither
Neilson nor I had ever observed in him before. He
told us story after story of his early experiences
with Wagner, dating from the time when he first
went to Bayreuth in 1875 for the purpose of act-
ing as his secretary and of assisting to make a
''clean copy'' of the score of the "Ring.'' His
preliminary interview with the master in the li-
brary at Wahnfried was among his more vivid
recollections. When he entered the room he
thought no one was there but himself. So he
^ Anton Seidl was at that period setting to music for the stage
the first part of a trilogy entitled ^'Manabozo, " written by
Francis Neilson, and founded upon the myths of the North Amer-
ican Indians. The fact was kept secret, and nobody seems to
have heard any of the music but Mr. Neilson (now stage man-
ager of the Eoyal Opera, Co vent Garden), who declared that it
possessed beauty and originality of no mean order. I understood
that the first part of the trilogy had been fully sketched and
was partially scored for orchestra; but what became of the score
I am unable to say. The poem of ' ' Manabozo ' ' was published
separately in London in 1899 by John Macqueen, Norfolk Street,
Strand, and was dedicated by the author to the memory of Anton
Seidl. The preface states that this work was Seidl 's ''dearest
aim," and that his ''confidence and belief in the subject and its
potentialities" were extraordinary.
410
Musical Life in London
pulled out his letter of introduction and inwardly
rehearsed for the twentieth time the little speech
which he had prepared. Suddenly, from out of
a dark corner, where he had been reading or
searching for a book, there sprang into view— Hi-
chard Wagner ! The apparition so completely up-
set poor Seidl's equanimity that he found him-
self unable to utter a single sentence of his speech.
Even in reply to the master's questions he could
barely manage to blurt out a monosyllable. At
last Wagner dismissed him with the remark, *^If
you work as well as you hold your tongue you will
do. ' ' And from that time forward his capacity for
silence was a standing joke at Wahnfried.
Seidl also told us the ' ^ fish story ' ' which he
related to Mr. H. T. Finck ^ as an instance of Wag-
ner 's love of animals, with the additional informa-
tion that this quaint encounter with the old fish-
woman at the Bayreuth railway station was the
immediate cause of the famous diatribe which the
sensitive composer penned against the practice of
vivisection. Another anecdote narrated by Seidl,
and possessing an even wider interest, is worth
setting down here at length.
Early in December, 1878, Wagner made up his
mind that his wife should be serenaded on her
birthday at Christmas with the strains of the '^ Vor-
spiel" to ^'Parsifal," of which work he had then
completed the first act. The only question was
how to obtain an orchestra. After some reflec-
^" Wagner and his Works," by H. T. Finck, Vol. II, p. 203.
4ir
Thirty Years of
tion, Wagner determined to procure the services
of the celebrated Meiningen performers, but of
course without their conductor, then no other than
Dr. Hans von Biilow, Frau Cosima Wagner ^s first
husband. The project was kept a profound secret,
and young Anton Seidl was forthwith despatched
to Meiningen to arrange matters with the band. He
arrived there early in the morning, and went direct
to the hotel at which von Biilow was staying. The
worthy doctor was practising, and, being unac-
quainted with Seidl, sent out word that he could
not see him until eleven o'clock. Accordingly, at
that hour he presented himself at the great pian-
ist's apartment and was duly ushered into his pres-
ence. At the first mention of Wagner's name von
Biilow drew himself up and inquired in an icy tone
what it was that Herr Wagner wanted. Seidl
explained the object of his mission.
*^Well," replied the doctor, ^'you must permit
me to inform you that I do not occupy myself at
all with the engagements of my orchestra. If Herr
Wagner requires their services, his ambassador
must be good enough to address himself to my
Conzertmeister. Good morning." And with that
he stiffly bowed Seidl out.
The ^^ ambassador" quickly found the leader of
the band, and, the Duke of Meiningen 's permission
being readily granted, it was arranged that the
men should be at Bayreuth by a certain evening.
They assembled in good time at the Sonne Hotel,
where Wagner met them and conducted a rehear-
412
Musical Life in London
sal of the ' ^ Vorspiel. ' ' Early next morning, while
Fran Cosima was still asleep, the heavier instru-
ments were conveyed to Wahnfried, and the play-
ers quietly stationed themselves at their desks in
the vestibule and upon the staircase. When all was
ready, Wagner gave the signal, and his much-hon-
ored wife awoke from her slumbers to hear for the
first time the mystic phrases of the prelude to
** Parsifal.''
In 1895, for the first time for eight years, there
was a London opera season without the coopera-
tion of Jean de Reszke. This was the year of
Mme. Patti's return to the stage of Covent Gar-
den, an event to which reference has already been
made. Prior to her rentree the diva sang at a
Philharmonic concert, and was presented on that
occasion with the society's gold medal— an honor
bestowed upon only sixteen musicians before her.
Her six appearances at the Opera (as Violetta and
Rosina) resulted in a splendid and unparalleled tri-
umph for herself and a handsome profit for her old
friend Augustus Harris. Another welcome return
was that of Marcella Sembrich, who had not sung
in London since 1884, and was now a greater artist
than ever. The prime donne further included
Melba, Calve, Albani, Emma Eames, Marie Engle,
and Marguerite Macintyre— altogether a rare
galaxy of soprano talent; so that, with Tamagno,
De Lucia, and Alvarez dividing the principal tenor
work, the absence of the distinguished Pole was
less felt than it otherwise would have been. The
Thirty Years of
principal debutante was Gemma Bellincioni, but her
lack of vocal charm was fatal to the chance of the
original Santuzza winning favor in England.
The only important novelty was Frederic
Cowen's ''Harold/' a four-act dramatic opera,
composed to a weak libretto by Sir Edward Malet,
and, mirahile dictu, sung in English before a Co-
vent Garden audience in mid-season! The fine
music of this work deserved more enduring suc-
cess. The cast comprised Mme. Albani, Miss
Meisslinger, Philip Brozel, David Bispham, and
Richard Green ; but, unluckily, there was a lack of
distinction (and distinctness) about the general
rendering that was scarcely calculated to engender
in aristocratic auditors any particular love of op-
era in the vernacular. Anyhow, the English ex-
periment was never repeated; while, on the other
hand, a performance of ' ' Tannhauser ' ' in French,
given later in the summer, was hailed with posi-
tive delight. Concurrently with the regular Covent
Garden enterprises, the stock company from the
ducal theatre at Coburg appeared at Drury Lane
in a series of light German operas comprising ' ' Der
Vogelhandler, ' ' " Die Fledermaus, ' ' and ' ' Die ver-
kaufte Braut.'' These admirable representations
were thoroughly appreciated.
It is timely here to note the gradual advent of
the new generation of modern pianists, filling in
the gaps left by the decease of favorites like Mme.
Schumann, Anton Rubinstein, Hans von Biilow,
and Sir Charles Halle, all of whom died between
414
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Musical Life in London
1894 and 1896. The predominant position of Pa-
derewski had long since been assured; now, how-
ever, came Moritz Rosenthal and Eugen d 'Albert,
seeking a London indorsement of the reputations
they had already won on the Continent and in
America. In each case the general verdict was
emphatically ratified. Moritz Rosenthal's debut
at the Richter concerts (June 10, 1895), when he
played the Liszt concerto in E flat, created a gen-
uine sensation; and his subsequent recitals con-
firmed the opinion that he possessed the most phe-
nomenal technique of any living pianist.
Eugen d 'Albert was regarded in the light of a
^ ^ prodigal. ' ' A native of Glasgow and educated at
the National Training School for Music in London,
he might with all fairness have been termed a Brit-
ish product. He preferred, however, to call himself
a German, and had not stood upon an English con-
cert platform since boyhood till he appeared at
Queen's Hall under Felix Mottl (April 28, 1896),
and gave a magnificent performance of Beetho-
ven's E flat or ^'Emperor" concerto. He had a
cold reception, but after he had played it became
evident that the old grievances had been forgotten
in the presence of a legitimate virtuoso, of a true
artist possessing the fire of unmistakable genius.
Personally I admire his playing immensely; and
as an interpreter of Beethoven, it is upon the shoul-
ders of d 'Albert that the mantle of Rubinstein, to
my thinking, has fallen. His place as a composer
will have to be decided by a future generation.
20
417
Musical Life in London
Among other native pianists now coming to the
fore were Frederic Lamond and Frederick Dawson,
natives of Scotland and Lancashire, respectively,
llona Eibenschiitz, a pupil of Mme. Schumann, had
become quite a favorite; and the romantic school
had also a gifted and popular exponent in the clever
Hungarian artist Benno Schonberger. Also note-
worthy were the debuts at about the same time of
Emil Sauer, Ferrucio Busoni, and Ossip Gabrilo-
witsch.
418
CHAPTER XVIII
A visit to America — Jean de Reszke as a German singer — Nor-
dica's triumph — A private recital of " Tristan " — The London
season of 1896 — Death of Sir Augustus Harris — Two funerals
at St. Paul's — Edward Elgar— "In a Persian Garden"—
Charles Salaman— Puccini's "La Boheme "—Operas and de-
buts in 1897— Opera at Windsor: the Queen's last "com-
mands."
JEAN DE RESZKE \S first appearance as a
German singer in Wagnerian opera was des-
tined to take place, not in England, but in America.
This was during the winter of 1895-96. My im-
patience to hear him sing in German was natural,
for I had fully sympathized with his desire to
escape from the trammels of the Italian transla-
tion, and had done my share toward paving the way
for his mastery of the original text. Fortune was
kind enough to afford me an earlier opportunity
than I had anticipated of enjoying the fruit of this
endeavor. It happened that at Easter, 1896, I
paid my first visit to the United States for the pur-
pose of attending the production of the comic opera
^ ^ El Capitan, ' ^ of which my brother, Charles Klein,
was the author and John Philip Sousa the com-
poser. Directly after that successful event I spent
a week in New York, just when Mr. Grau ^s supple-
419
Thirty Years of
mentary season at the Metropolitan Opera House
was approaching its close.
I had hoped, before my return to England, to hear
both ' ' Lohengrin ' ^ and ' ^ Tristan ' ' in German ; but,
as it turned out, I could not remain for the latter.
My passage was booked for Saturday, and ^ ^ Tris-
tan'' was not to be given until the following Mon-
day. In vain did the warm-hearted Polish brothers
endeavor to i3ersuade me to stay and sail with them
on Wednesday. I dared not delay my return by a
single day. I should have to be content, therefore,
with hearing ^ ^ Lohengrin, " and wait for ^'Tris-
tan'' until it was done at Covent Garden later in
the spring. That is precisely what did occur; but
my self-denial was first to receive compensation
in the shape of a very rare, if not unparalleled com-
pliment—one of those tributes of personal regard
which we appreciate most when they are perfectly
spontaneous and unpremeditated.
It was arranged that we were all to sup together
in Mme. Nordica's apartments at the Savoy after
the performance of *' Lohengrin. " Our hostess
was, indeed, the heroine, in a special sense, of that
representation; for after the bridal scene she was
presented with a superb diamond tiara, which had
been subscribed for by the leaders of New York
society. The assemblage was one of the most bril-
liant- and crowded of the season. It was the first
time I ever saw the Metropolitan Opera House, and
I was much struck with its handsome proportions.
Then again, under Anton Seidl 's magic wand, the
420
Copyright, 1898, by A. Dupont, >.'. Y,
NORDICA
AS BRUNNHILDE
Musical Life in London
performance touched at all points a very high level
of excellence. Finally, I derived immense pleasure
from the novel sensation of hearing Jean and
Edouard de Reszke as exponents of Wagner 's own
text. Their conscientious enunciation of each syl-
lable, their accurate diction, and their admirable
accent seemed to impart an added dignity alike to
the music and to their impersonations. Even the
more cultivated listener might easily have im-
agined them to be native German singers. Mme.
Nordica, too, handled the German words with re-
markable facility and confidence. Altogether, it
was a most meritorious achievement.
The subsequent reunion at the hotel found every
one in the highest spirits. Beside the three artists,
there were present Mme. Nordica ^s sister (Mrs.
Walker) and Mr. Amherst Webber, the talented
English maestro at piano^ who had recently acted
as accompanist to the brothers in their Wagnerian
studies. After supper the conversation turned
upon Bayreuth, and allusion was made to a certain
half-promise given by Jean de Eeszke to Frau Co-
sima, that he would one day sing Tristan and
Walther, or perhaps even Siegfried, at the festi-
val. I remarked that, after what I had heard
that night, I entertained no doubts concerning the
adequate quality of his accent. This only elicited
a further request that I would stay in New York
until I had heard how it sounded in ^'Tristan.''
Then the distinguished tenor turned to Mme. Nor-
dica and proposed that, as I was evidently not to
Thirty Years of
be made to alter my determination, the best thing
they could do would be to ^' bring the mountain
to Mohammed" and sing some ^* Tristan'' to me
there and then; and that between one and two in
the morning, and after a heavy opera like ' ' Lohen-
grin"! Surely it was not possible. But surprise
and incredulity quickly changed to delight. For,
without an instant 's hesitation, Mme. Nordica con-
sented ; Mr. Webber went to the piano and played
a few introductory bars; and, almost before I
could realize what was being done, the two gifted
artists were warbling the wondrous love scene from
Wagner's immortal music-drama.
They did not spare themselves, either, these gen-
erous friends. They sang with full voice; they
went through not only the scene with which they
had started, but the duet of the first act as well;
and, from beginning to end, the exquisite beauty of
their phrasing, the blending of their voices in per-
fect intonation and unity of color, the significance
of their supreme dramatic interpretation, con-
stituted at once a marvel and a revelation. It was
a strange experience, sitting at the supper-table
(for none of us but Mr. Webber had moved from
our seats) while for an hour or more those two
famous singers reveled in the enjoyment of their
self-imposed task— undertaken for the sole purpose
of conferring pleasure upon an old friend. The
picture of that night remains vividly imprinted
upon my mind, even as its vocal spell lives fresh
and fragrant among my most treasured memories.
424
Musical Life in London
I shall always be grateful for the privilege of hav-
ing listened to some of the grandest pages of * ^ Tris-
tan'' under such novel and interesting conditions.
A month later the de Reszkes were at Co vent
Garden, giving habitues a taste of their quality as
German singers in ''Lohengrin," ''Tristan," and
"Die Meistersinger. " Their success was unquali-
fied. In the new Tristan was hailed the beau-ideal
—the perfect conception and the complete realiza-
tion—of the noblest of Wagner's knightly heroes.
The Konig Marke and the Hans Sachs of Edouard
de Reszke won unstinted admiration. Also to be
noted was the Pogner of Pol Plangon, an artist
whose magnificent organ and supreme gifts alike
as singer and as actor had by this time won him
immense popularity in London. Unfortunately,
Mme. Nordica did not come that season to share in
the triumphs of the new German campaign. Al-
bani sang Elsa and Isolde; Emma Eames was the
Eva— and a delightful one, I remember. But the
Gallic craze was still rampant, and in the midst of
all this good work we were amazed at the spectacle
of a performance of "Die Walkiire" in French,
with Alvarez (not Alvary, poor fellow!) as Sieg-
mundy Lola Beeth as Sieglinde, Mantelli (sic) as
Bruymhilde, Albers as Wot an, and Castelmary as
Blinding! Little need to state that the absurd and
useless proceeding was a dismal failure.
The most notable event of the season of 1896 was,
alas! the death of Sir Augustus Harris. It was
in the middle of June, at a moment when every-
425
Thirty Years of
thing appeared bright and prosperous, that Lon-
don was startled by the sudden illness and prema-
ture decease of its favorite manager. Only forty-
four years of age, the universally popular ^^Gus''
died amid general expressions of sorrow. Like
Tom Bowling in the ballad, *'his friends were
many and true-hearted''; these mourned for the
man. But countless were the numbers of those that
had never known him, yet deplored the loss of the
genial worker who had catered generously to their
theatrical amusement, and had raised opera in
England from a ^^ moribund" state to its present
flourishing condition. Harris did not realize the
limit of his physical powers. Though his heart
was only in two or three undertakings, his brain
and hand were in a dozen. When death overtook
him he was actually struggling to revive the lan-
guishing fortunes of the huge circus business known
as Olympia!
^ ^ His genius was of that Napoleonic order which
comes but rarely into existence and still more rarely
finds its exact bent. His spirit moved with the
times; it was fin de siecle in the most marked de-
gree, and it brooked the interference of tradition
only when by so doing it could secure the sur-
vival of the fittest. Where the public taste was
concerned his instinct seldom erred; he knew pre-
cisely what his patrons wanted and how best to
give it them. As impresario, manager, entrepre-
neur, dramatist, librettist, and stage manager, all
rolled into one, he was absolutely unique; and it
426
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may be taken for granted that we shall ^ ne'er look
upon his like again.' " These words are as true
to-day as they were when I wrote them nearly seven
years ago. Sir Augustus Harris was buried at Ken-
sal Green Cemetery, in the presence of an assem-
blage numbering many thousands. The problem
of carrying on his chief operatic concern was solved
by the formation of the Covent Garden Syndicate,
the capital for which was furnished by the leading
subscribers. Of this body Earl de Grey and Mr.
H. V. Higgins were appointed directors, while Mr.
Maurice Grau undertook the duties of managing
director, and Mr. Neil Forsyth those of secretary.
Many other notable figures disappeared from the
scene in this same year— among them Mme. Clara
Schumann, Sir Joseph Barnby^ Ambroise Thomas,
Frau Klaf sky, Italo Campanini, Henry Leslie, and
Lewis Thomas, the Welsh basso. Of these the most
interesting to the English musical community in
general were the two talented choral conductors,
Joseph Barnby and Henry Leslie, the former re-
markable as a trainer of large vocal bodies, as that
at the Albert Hall ; the latter well known as the
founder and leader of the Leslie Choir, probably
the most wonderful embodiment of a perfect choral
ensemble that London ever possessed, not except-
ing even the Bach Choir in its best days. I knew
both men well, but was more intimately acquainted
with Sir Joseph Barnby, with whom, after he suc-
ceeded Weist Hill as principal of the Guildhall
School of Music, I was brought into almost daily
429
Thirty Years of
association. It was a pity he ever went to that
institution. The work killed him, even as the dis-
appointment of failing to secure the appointment
killed his rival candidate, Sir William Cusins.
Barnby is now remembered more for his church
music than for his deeds with the baton. Yet he
told me once that his greatest ambition was to be
an operatic conductor; and I quite believed that
when he deprived me of my post as conductor of
the opera class at the Guildhall School in order to
fill it himself,— though necessarily in perfunctory
fashion, for he could not really spare the time.
Well, I bore him no grudge on that account. W^e
were the best of friends to the end; and when he
died (January 28, 1896) I readily complied with
Lady Barnby ^s request to organize the arrange-
ments for the funeral service, which was held in St.
Paul's Cathedral. This I did in conjunction with
my friend Mr. Alfred Littleton, and in order to ob-
tain the requisite experience for directing so elabor-
ate a function I attended the funeral of Lord Leigh-
ton, who was buried in the cathedral on the previous
day. The crowds were enormous, and the difficul-
ties of the Barnby ceremony were increased in that,
after the service at St. Paul's, the coffin had to be
taken away for interment at Norwood Cemetery.
Five years later I was called upon to perform a
similar mournful duty in connection with the fu-
neral of Sir Arthur Sullivan, who, like Lord Leigh-
ton, was deemed worthy of a niche in the crypt of
the cathedral. Neither light nor pleasant was the
430
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labor of arranging these solemn functions ; yet they
will remain always among the proudest and most
notable events of my life.
I seldom attended the festivals of the Three
Choirs. They rarely yielded music of an '' epoch-
making'' character, and they always occurred at
the beginning of September, just when I was enjoy-
ing my hard-earned holiday. I was warned, how-
ever, not to miss the Worcester Festival of 1896;
and I am glad I did not. That was the meeting
which lifted Edward Elgar out of his obscurity
as a Malvern teacher and revealed him to his
countrymen as a musician of high attainments and
still higher promise. For once the *' local man"
turned out to be something better than your or-
dinary writer of ^ ^ Kapellmeistermusik ' ' ; for once
the dip in the local lottery-bag yielded a genuine
prize.
Edward Elgar produced at this festival a short
oratorio entitled ^'The Light of Life,'' founded
upon the miracle of the healing of the blind man,
related in the ninth chapter of St. John. Its ori-
ginality, the sense of proportion and tone-color dis-
played in the choral and orchestral effects, the bold
and masterful treatment of the leading themes,
and the generally engrossing character of the mu-
sic fairly took connoisseurs by surprise, and pre-
pared them for the development which so rapidly
placed Edward Elgar in the very forefront of con-
temporary British composers. From ^^The Light
of Life " to ^ ' The Dream of Gerontius ' ' represents
431
Thirty Years of
an enormous stride, and every phase of the transi-
tion is replete with interest. It would be hard to
say in which direction— orchestral or choral mu-
sic—his genius shows the more powerful bent. In
both it seems to me that his individuality and im-
aginative force are equally striking, his technical
resources equally comprehensive ; and, at the same
time, fully on a par with his gifts as a musician are
his modest and unassuming yet sterling qualities
as a man.
One warm July night in 1896 I was present
at a large musical party given by the late Mrs.
Edward Goetz at her house in Hyde Park Ter-
race. Always enjoyable were the entertainments
of this liberal and sympathetic patroness of the art,
who was a daughter of Mr. J. M. Levy, the founder
of the '^ Daily Telegraph, '^ and sister of Sir Ed-
ward Lawson, the genial proprietor of that jour-
nal. This, however, was a noteworthy occasion,
since it brought to a first hearing a composition
which was destined to win popularity in every land
where English song flourishes— I refer to Liza
Lehmann's graceful and fascinating setting of
lines from Omar Khayyam's ^^Rubaiyat" (''In a
Persian Garden"). I shall not readily forget the
mingled surprise and admiration awakened by the
novel fragrance and charm of this music, remark-
able at once for its sincerity of feeling and ex-
pression and the subtle beauty of its harmonic
structure. The solos were finely rendered by Al-
bani, Hilda Wilson, Ben Davies, and David Bisp-
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Musical Life in London
ham; and the accompaniments were played by
the composer, who, I may add, seemed to be not
less astonished than delighted at the warmth of the
compliments showered upon her.
During the following December ^'In a Persian
Garden" was sung, for the first time in public, at
one of the Popular Concerts, and with extraor-
dinary success. Apart from its intrinsic worth, the
new song-cycle was especially welcome to an au-
dience that had long counted Liza Lehmann the
vocalist among its particular favorites. In that
capacity, indeed, the fair musician was just bidding-
farewell to the concert platform and creating a
vacancy that might have remained long unfilled
but for the timely debut of Blanche Marchesi, the
accomplished daughter of the famous Paris teacher.
Very different in type were these two singers, nor
can it be gainsaid that the art of Blanche Marchesi
covers a wider intellectual grasp, a broader range
of color, a greater depth of dramatic intensity than
that which distinguished the English soprano.
Yet both must be given a conspicuous place in the
group of artists whose talent helped at this time
to keep alive the fading glories of the '^Pops.'^
For, alas ! the closing years of the nineteenth cen-
tury were to witness a sad deterioration in the
quality of these renowned concerts. The secession
of Joachim and the death of Piatti eliminated the
last links that held intact the chain of the old
subscribers. The support fell away, and with the
resignation of Arthur Chappell the institution
435
Thirty Years of
finally lost the prestige and the value that had
earned it renown for a period of over forty years.
Among the remarkable old men of music whose
light died out with the expiring months of the last
century was my dear friend Charles Kensington
Salaman. His active labors as composer and
teacher had long ceased; but his brain was ever
alert and ever busy amid his storehouse of mem-
ories of a bygone age. He could tell of a visit to
the famous singer Catalani (heard for the last time
in England at the York Festival in 1828), and he
could describe the sensations with which he had
played duets with Liszt when the Weimar pianist
first came to London as a boy of eleven. It was a
rare pleasure to listen to Charles Salaman 's anec-
dotes ; to sit by him as he played with still wonder-
ful facility and grace some quaint old show-piece ;
or to sing while he accompanied some such exqui-
site lyric as his lovely setting of Shelley's *^I arise
from dreams of thee.'' It was his habit always
to celebrate his birthday by composing a new song
to lines specially written by his son Malcolm, and
not the least charming of these efforts was the
^^Love Song" which commemorated his eightieth
birthday on March 3, 1894. He was visited on these
occasions by some of the foremost musical and the-
atrical celebrities in the metropolis. But after
keeping up the charter another two or three years
his health gradually failed and he died amid uni-
versal regrets.
In the spring of 1897 Giacomo Puccini paid his
436
Musical Life in London
second visit to England, to superintend the produc-
tion of his opera *'La Boheme'' by the Carl Rosa
company at Manchester. The young Italian com-
poser had achieved only a moderate success with
his ^^Manon Lescaut" at Covent Garden three
years before, and was anxious to add to his laurels.
On joining him at Manchester the afternoon of
the premiere, I found him in very low spirits. He
was not satisfied with the Carl Rosa artists, and
fully anticipated a fiasco for the English represen-
tation of *'La Boheme.^' I assured him that Carl
Rosa singers (as distinguished from Carl Rosa
^ ^ directors ' ') did not know the meaning of the word
^'fail'^; the intelligence and ensemble of the com-
pany were bound to pull him through. And so it
proved. Deficient as it was in many respects, there
was, nevertheless, so much spirit and animation
about the performance, such a flavor of Bohemian
jollity, that the opera instantly won the favor of
the Lancashire audience and paved the way for
its subsequent London success.^
With the Covent Garden season of 1897 the work
of the new regime fairly began. Mr. Maurice Grau
made his entry upon the scene, nominally as the
successor to Sir Augustus Harris ; and he paid that
impresario the highest compliment in his power
* The cast was as follows : Budolph, Mr. Eobert Cunningham ;
Marcel, Mr. William Paull; Colline, Mr. A. S. Winckworth;
Schaunard, Mr. C. Tilbury; Benoit, Mr. Homer Lind; Musetta,
Miss Bessie MacDonald; and Mimi, Miss Alice Esty. Mr. Claude
Jaquinot conducted, and Mr. T. H. Friend was the stage manager.
437
Thirty Years of
by frankly pursuing the lines that had marked the
previous managerial policy of the establishment.
Not a single innovation worthy of the name had to
be recorded. As in America, so in London, Mr.
Grau found that it would be impossible for him
to do better at the head of a big operatic concern
than steer the exact course that had been followed
during the preceding decade by Augustus Harris.
The usual sixty-seven performances were given,
and altogether eighteen operas were mounted; no
fewer than half of these were sung in French. The
novelties were ^'Der Evangelimann, ' ^ a sentimen-
tal work by Wilhelm Kienzl, in which the tenor
Van Dyck scored a great success; and ^'Inez
Mendo, ' ' a meritorious opera from the pen of Fre-
deric d'Erlanger, wherein Mme. Frances Saville,
a new soprano, and M. Renaud, the barytone from
the Paris Opera, sustained the principal parts.
Other debutants of the season were Miss Susan
Strong, Mile. Pacary, Fraulein Sedlmair, Andreas
Dippel, Salignac, Marcel Journet, Fugere, Lem-
priere Pringle, and Thomas Meux.
The brunt of more than two months' hard work
was borne by Jean and Edouard de Reszke, toge-
ther with Mme. Emma Fames and David Bispham,
gifted American artists who notably strengthened
their London reputations in the course of this sea-
son. * Mme. Melba appeared in a round of familiar
impersonations, while the sterling qualities of MM.
Alvarez and Plangon now began to earn for those
singers a wider circle of admirers. From the be-
438
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SCHUMANN-HEINK
AS ORTRUD
Musical Life in London
ginning of the season until the end of June the
German operas were conducted by the late Anton
Seidl, and the memory of this, his last appearance
at Covent Garden, is associated with some exceed-
ingly fine performances.
Among the visitors to London during the latter
part of the year were Edvard Grieg and his wife,
and the clever composer of ^^ Hansel und Gretel,"
Engelbert Humperdinck. The former appeared at
the Popular and other concerts, beside paying a
visit to the Queen at Windsor; while Humperdinck
made his debut, under the auspices of the Philhar-
monic Society, at the last of an autumn series of
concerts and conducted some excerpts from his
operas with signal success. Yet another distin-
guished composer, Moritz Moskowski, appeared at
the Philharmonic during the same series, after an
absence from London of over eleven years. He
brought nothing new, but conducted with much
spirit his violin concerto (played by M. Gregoro-
witsch) and three movements from his opera *'Bo-
abdil'^; a contralto air, also from the latter work,
was rendered by Mile. Olitzka.
The debut of a son-in-law of Queen Victoria in
the capacity of operatic librettist was an interest-
ing feature of the Carl Rosa season held at Covent
Garden during the autumn of 1897, the year of
Her Majesty 's ^ ' Diamond Jubilee. ' ' Twenty years
previous a cousin of the Queen, the then reigning
Grand Duke Ernest of Saxe Coburg-Gotha, had
figured upon the same scene as the composer of an
21 -
441
Thirty Years of
opera called ^^ Santa Chiara.'^ In the present in-
stance it was the Marquis of Lome (now the Duke
of Argyll), husband of that amiable and accom-
plished lady, the Princess Louise, who was respon-
sible for the text of Hamish MaeCunn^s romantic
opera '^Diarmid'^; and such was the striking all-
round merit of this work that, but for the weak-
ness of the denouement and an unfortunate resem-
blance to the plot of ^'Tristan und Isolde," which
evoked inevitable comparisons, it might have
earned enduring success. As it was, I fancy the
Marquis derived his principal reward from the
amusement of attending the rehearsals, which he
did regularly, in company with the Princess, who
would watch the proceedings from the corner of a
private box.
The Queen 's love of music was at no period more
strongly evinced than during the last few years of
her life. She turned to it for solace and comfort
in her old age, and derived the keenest pleasure
from the performances of the various artists who
were invited in quick succession to labor for her
enjoyment. Her devoted daughters. Princess
Christian and Princess Henry of Battenberg, were
ever on the alert to procure talent for this purpose ;
scarcely a week passed but that some artist of note
played or sang in the royal drawing-rooms at
Windsor, Osborne, or Balmoral. Lengthy, indeed,
must be the list of those, from the diva downward,
who can point with pride to their jeweled brooch
or pin bearing the familiar monogram ^ ^ V. R. I. " ;
442
Musical Life in London
while many, too, can display even costlier gifts
that were received, after repeated visits, as tokens
of Her Majesty's grateful appreciation. A select
few had bestowed upon them the insignia of the
Royal Victoria Order ; and the first musician to be
thus honored, after Sir Arthur Sullivan and Signor
Tosti, was M. Jean de Reszke, who received the
cross of the ^^R. V. 0.*' (fourth class) after a
performance of ^'Lohengrin'' at Windsor Castle
on the Queen's eightieth birthday. May 24, 1899.
His brother was similarly decorated fourteen
months later, after a representation of ^ 'Faust "—
the last occasion on which Queen Victoria ever lis-
tened to an opera.
The birthday celebration was marked by one or
two curious incidents. To begin with, only the first
and third acts of '^ Lohengrin" could be given.
There was hardly time to include the second, as
these royal functions do not commence until nearly
ten o 'clock at night. The plot, however, was fully
explained to the Queen, who had never heard Wag-
ner 's opera, and the temptation of Elsa (Mme. Nor-
dica) by the perfidious Ortrud (Mme. Schumann-
Heink) and her spouse (David Bispham) was
easily ' ' taken as read. ' ' Mancinelli conducted, and
everything went capitally until the fall of the cur-
tain. Her Majesty then retired to one of the draw-
ing-rooms and requested that the principal artists
be presented to her, together with Mr. Maurice
Grau as managing director of the Royal Opera.
The awful discovery was then made that neither
443
Thirty Years of
Jean nor Edouard de Reszke had with him any but
the operatic garments in which they stood. It was
the first time that the brothers had ever appeared
in opera before the Queen, and, not knowing that
it was usual to don evening dress for the subsequent
presentation, they had clothed themselves as Lo-
hengrin and Heinrich der Vogler before leaving
London, and had traveled to Windsor in dark
cloaks of sufficient amplitude to conceal themselves
from the gaze of an inquisitive Cockney crowd.
The situation was duly explained to Her Majesty,
who laughingly declared that it did not matter in
the least; for once court etiquette should be disre-
garded, and the two artists brought before her in
their picturesque stage attire. The command was
forthwith obeyed, and the Queen, in course of con-
versation with the brothers, ' ' expressed the delight
that it had afforded her at last to hear them in
opera and listen to the beautiful music of Wagner's
work. ' '
Queen Victoria never heard Jean de Eeszke
again. In the summer of 1900, when ' ^ Faust ' ' was
given at Windsor, he was not well enough to sing,
and a substitute was forthcoming in the new French
tenor Saleza. I accompanied Edouard de Reszke
to the castle and was present at the performance.
The Marguerite was that sympathetic artist Mme.
Suzai;ne Adams, to whom, afterward, Her Majesty
personally handed a handsome sapphire and dia-
mond bracelet. Philippe Flon was the conductor,
and the cast further included Mile. Bauermeister,
444
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Musical Life in London
Mile. Maubourg, and M. Declery, with M. Almanz
as regisseur. The remarkable feature of that even-
ing was the mental and physical endurance shown
by the aged sovereign, who was now so near to the
close of her august career. It was a hot, sultry
July night, and although several cuts were made,
the opera was not over until nearly twelve o 'clock.
From the beginning to the end the Queen remained
deeply interested, and never stirred from her chair
upon the dais. It was only as she walked down the
inclined gangway, passing within a yard of where
I stood, and leaning heavily upon the arm of her
Indian attendant, that I perceived how intensely
fatigued Her Majesty was. Her face bore a look
of exhaustion that indicated actual suffering. Yet
there was no suggestion of dispensing with the cus-
tomary reception. From the door of the Waterloo
Chamber the Queen's chair was wheeled through
St. George's Hall to the Green Drawing-room,
and quite forty minutes more must have elapsed
ere the ceremony of receiving the artists and giv-
ing them their presents was over. Whether work
or pleasure was involved, Victoria the Good never
sought to spare herself in the rendering of those
courtesies which she thought she owed to others.
It was just six months after witnessing this
^^ Faust" performance that Her Majesty breathed
her last at Osborne House.
447
CHAPTER XIX
Operatic retrogression— The seasons of 1898, 1899, and 1900—
Purchase of the Covent Garden lease — The "Perosi craze" —
Final remarks on the Harris regime — Death of Sims Reeves
— Edward Lloyd's retirement — English singers and English
festivals : a concluding retrospect.
EVERY period of change and reform gives
place to a corresponding spell of plodding,
mechanical labor upon the lines that public appre-
ciation has indorsed. By comparison with the
decade extending from 1887 to 1897, the story of
operatic progress during the succeeding five years
is dull and uninteresting. That is an excellent rea-
son for treating it with brevity, if not, indeed, for
bringing it to a conclusion, as far as these pages are
concerned, with all convenient speed. The spirit of
innovation died when Sir Augustus Harris ^^ shuf-
fled off this mortal [operatic] coil.'' The tempo-
rary association of Mr. Maurice Grau with the man-
agement of Covent Garden only tended to crystal-
lize the identical systems of supply and demand
which had already distinguished the leading lyric
theatres of London and New York. The dead im-
presario 's successors contented themselves with a
mild imitation of the Harris policy, plus a cred-
itable endeavor to ameliorate the materiel— they
448
Musical Life in London
could not well improve the personnel— of. their es-
tablishment. Beyond that, there has been neither
initial energy nor imagination to widen the scope
and elevate the character of this important enter-
prise.
The last two or three seasons of the nineteenth
century may be very briefly dismissed. In 1898
the novelties at Covent Garden were Saint-Saens^s
' ' Henry VIII ' ' and Mancinelli 's ' ' Ero e Leandro. ' '
In the former, Mme. Heglon made her debut as
Anne Boleyn, and M. Renaud gave an extremely
picturesque embodiment of ^^ bluff King HaP' as
viewed through a pair of French pince-nez. The
chief parts in Mancinelli 's opera ^ were created by
Eames, Schumann-Heink, Saleza, and Plangon.
Another noteworthy feature was the revival of
^*Der Ring des Nibelungen" under Felix Mottl.
In this Jean de Reszke made his first appearance
in the role of Siegfried, and a splendid series of
casts included, among others, Nordica, Ternina,
Eames, Schumann-Heink, Marie Brema, Yon Art-
ner, Meisslinger, Van Dyck, Dippel, Van Rooy, and
Edouard de Reszke. The general troupe further
comprised Melba, Calve, Zelie de Lussan, Frances
Saville, Suzanne Adams, Saleza, and Campanari,
of whom the last three then sang in London for the
first time. The success of the young American de-
butante, who subsequently became the wife of Mr.
Leo Stern, the violoncellist, was especially marked.
1 Originally produced as a cantata at the Norwich
Festival of 1896.
449
Thirty Years of
The profits in 1898 and 1899 were larger than
during any like period since the operatic renais-
sance began ; but from an artistic standpoint prog-
ress was no longer reflected in the deeds of the
Covent Garden management. The season of 1899
yielded but a single novelty, namely, Isidore de
Lara's ^ * Messaline. " True, this was the work of
an Englishman; but it was composed to a French
libretto and performed by French artists, and it
owed its hearing exclusively to foreign influence.
Its success, despite the glamour of its picturesque
Roman setting, and notwithstanding the art of
Heglon, Alvarez, and Renaud, must perforce be
described as equivocal. The story at best is re-
volting ; and the music combines with a few fine mo-
ments many dull quarts d'heure. Wagner again
played a prominent part, his works furnishing just
one third of the seventy-one representations that
made up the season. These were directed, with two
exceptions, by Dr. Muck, one of the conductors of
the Berlin Hof-Oper. Conspicuous therein were
some magnificent impersonations by Mme. Lilli
Lehmann, who had not been heard in London for
many years, and by Mme. Gadski, who now made
her debut at Covent Garden and at once earned
the favor due to an artist of rare vocal and his-
trionic attainments. Of the other new-comers
neither Mile. Lucienne Breval nor Mile. Litvinne
did herself complete justice ; but Mme. Louise Ho-
mer created a satisfactory impression, and a posi-
450
Copyright by A. Dupont, N. Y.
LILLI LEHMANN
AS ISOLDE
Musical Life in London
tive hit was scored by Signor Scotti, one of the
most versatile and accomplished barytones that
Italy has sent forth in recent years. Jean de
Reszke sang only nine nights and was then com-
pelled by illness to seek rest ; in the following win-
ter, however, he was singing in America with all
his wonted vigor and charm.
Early in 1899 the inheritor of the Covent Gar-
den lease, Mr. Gr. F. Faber, disposed of the theatre
to the Grand Opera Syndicate, for the remainder
of his term, for the sum of £110,000. This de-
sirable consummation, which was brought about
through the efforts of Mr. Alfred de Rothschild,
had the effect of placing the entire concern upon a
sound and solid footing. The syndicate was formed
into a limited liability company, the list of share-
holders being headed by the Prince of Wales (now
King Edward VII) and composed very largely of
the opera subscribers, who thus became directly in-
terested in the financial prosperity of the general
undertaking. The direction of the company re-
mained in the same hands, but Mr. Grau did not
long continue the heavy labors involved in his
double impresarioship. Another couple of years
of fruitful toil, and then he relinquished his Lon-
don duties altogether, so far as opera was con-
cerned, thenceforth devoting himself with in-
creased energy to the sister enterprise in New York.
He was succeeded as artistic director at Covent
Garden by M. Andre Messager, the composer of
453
Thirty Years of
^ ' La Basoche ' ' and other works, whose experience
as conductor and joint manager of the Paris Opera-
Comique eminently fitted him for the post.
This same year, by the way, witnessed the brief
*^Perosi craze.'' How that purely artificial vogue
ever came to extend beyond the walls of the Italian
churches no one knows. At least it should have
stopped short at Paris, which was as far as the
youthful abbe himself contrived to get on his road
to London. But for a time the ^' craze" raged in
England with the virulence of an epidemic, and
many sane musicians persuaded themselves that
the new oratorio composer was a genius of the first
magnitude. His ^'Transfiguration," his '^ Raising
of Lazarus," and his '^ Resurrection of Christ"
were all performed at the London Musical Festi-
val which Robert Newman started at Queen's Hall
in May; while his '^ Passion of Christ" was given
at the Norwich Festival in the autumn. In each
instance, however, there was felt a keen sense of
disappointment. At best Perosi's works could ap-
peal only to the ear amid ecclesiastical surround-
ings, and even there their woeful lack of originality
was bound to irritate the critical listener. Far more
interesting as choral events were the first per-
formances in England (at the Gloucester Festival)
of Professor Horatio Parker's '^ Hora Novissima" ;
the revival (at Albert Hall) of Wagner's scriptural
scene for male voices and orchestra, ''The Last
Supper of the Apostles"; and the restoration, by
the Royal Choral Society under Sir Frederick
454
Musical Life in London
Bridge, of the original accomiDaniments to Han-
dePs ^'Messiah.''
The opera season of 1900, the last touched upon
in this chronicle, offered to a contented public prac-
tically the same company, the same repertory, the
same familiar commingling of brilliant individual
efforts and unsurpassable artistic resources, toge-
ther, alas! with a growing roughness of ensemble
and a lamentable mediocrity of mise en scene. It
was the last London opera season in which Jean
de Reszke had thus far taken part ; and even that
appearance was attended by a ^^ partial eclipse,'*
the climate of the British metropolis once more
proving so seriously detrimental to the vocal or-
gans of the famous tenor that he was unable to com-
plete his engagement. Two cycles of the ^^Ring'*
were given, and among the new members of the cast
were Frau Gulbranson, Miss Edyth Walker, Frau-
lein Hieser, Herr Ernst Kraus, Herr Briesemeister,
Herr Slezak, Herr Bertram, and Herr Klopfer. In
the direction of the German operas, Felix Mottl
was assisted by that admirable conductor Emil
Paur, who made a highly satisfactory impression.
Distinct hits were achieved also by the clever young
light soprano, Fraulein Fritzi Scheff; by Signor
Bonci, a sympathetic Italian tenor of the old school ;
and by Mr. Blass, an American basso of German
parentage and training.
Puccini's ^^Tosca" was the solitary new opera
produced in 1900, and, thanks to the genius of
Fraulein Ternina, its many beauties were at once
455
Thirty Years of
made patent to all who were willing to perceive
them. That artist's superb assumption of Floria
Tosca, coming as it did on top of a series of tri-
umphs in such roles as Brilnnhilde, Sieglinde, Elsa,
Elisabeth, and Leonora, was but another revela-
tion of her versatility and of her vocal and his-
trionic charm. This was Ternina's first essay as
the heroine of Puccini 's picturesque work, and she
received excellent support from De Lucia as Pietro
Cavaradossi, and from Scotti as Scarpia— this last
a creation which has won universal recognition as
an ideal presentment of one of the most subtle and
malevolent figures in modern opera. Altogether it
was a splendid performance, and Luigi Mancinelli
conducted it in his most masterly manner. In the
German operas the increasing success of Mme.
Gadski became conspicuously characteristic; while
Mme. Melba extended her repertory with a piquant
impersonation of Rosina in ^^11 Barbiere." Mme.
Calve was content to travel within the limited cir-
cle of her old round of parts.
The following table indicates roughly the extent
of the work accomplished during the regular Lon-
don season, by the late Sir Augustus Harris and
his successors, during the thirteen years that came
after the tentative Drury Lane season of 1887 :
Weeks Operas Representations
1888
. ... 10
19
48
looy . . . . ,
. ... 10
16
53
1890
. ... 10
18
60
1891
. ... 16
20
94
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Musical Life in London
Weeks
Operas
Representations
1892....
. ... 10
25
88
1893....
. ... 11
25
89
1894....
.... 11
27
92
1895....
. ... 11
25
77
1896....
. ... 11
23
67
1897....
. ... 11
18
67
1898....
. ... 11
24
67
1899....
. ... 11
22
71
1900....
. ... 11
21
67
A casual glance at these figures will suffice to
show how curiously in the nature of an *'arc'' are
the rise and fall in the labor and energy which
evolved them. In 1894, exactly half way between
1888 and 1900, was reached the high-water mark
of activity under the Harris regime. I disregard
the sudden ^' bulge'' of 1891, because in that year
the season was unduly extended, and there were
then but twenty operas in the repertory. Three
years later it attained the remarkable total of
twenty-seven operas, an achievement never even
equaled, much less surpassed, in subsequent sea-
sons. But it is not altogether by aggregate re-
sults that the value of Augustus Harris's operatic
work can be reckoned ; it lies in the fact that opera,
both in London and in New York, is to-day a living
thing— a prosperous, not a ^^ moribund" institu-
tion. Nay, more: instead of being the ^'Italian
Opera" of our fathers, with all its miserable limi-
tations and inartistic conventionalities, it is an
opera that combines the three great schools of the
459
Thirty Years of
art in one organization, and presents their master-
pieces in the languages in which they were written.
To render the system perfect it needs to be less
wholly dependent upon the social equation; but
that desirable result never will be accomplished,
either in England or in America, until opera has
been released from the shackles of the foreign
tongue and driven right home to the hearts of the
people through the medium of their own good
Anglo-Saxon vernacular.
Strange was it that the closing weeks of the cen-
tury were to see the English concert-room de-
prived of its two greatest tenors. In October, 1900,
Sims Reeves died at the ripe old age of eighty- two ;
two months later Edward Lloyd went into retire-
ment after giving a memorable farewell concert at
the Royal Albert Hall. It may not be uninteresting
to compare these two supreme artists. In many
ways, notably as to character of voice and method,
they were as unlike as two singers could be; but
each in his own fashion exemplified the purest at-
tributes of the bel canto and upheld the best tra-
ditions of the British oratorio school. Sims Reeves
in the original instance was an opera-singer. I
once heard him in opera, but he was then nearly
sixty, and had long abandoned his stage career. I
first heard him sing at the Norwich Festival of
1866, when he took part in Costa's oratorio *^Naa-
man." His voice was then still in its prime. A
more exquisite illustration of what is termed the
true Italian tenor quality it would be impossible to
460
Musical Life in London
imagine; and this delicious sweetness, this rare
combination of ''velvety'^ richness with ringing
timbre, he retained in diminishing volume almost
to the last.
It is probable that Sims Reeves lost more money
through unfulfilled engagements than any other
singer that ever lived. He himself computed the
total amount thus eliminated from his banking ac-
count, during a career of half a century, at £80,000
($400,000). An eighth of this sum would have
sufficed to spare him the rigid economy and the
necessity for music-hall work which marred the
closing years of his existence. In the early ' ^ nine-
ties ' ' he took up teaching and accepted a professor-
ship at the Guildhall School, where we frequently
came in contact. I asked him once whether there
had always been good and sufficient cause for his
disappointing the public so frequently.
^ ' Well, perhaps not always, ' ' replied the veteran
tenor. ^^That is to say, I have no doubt it would
have been possible very often for me to have sung,
if I had made the effort. But the very fact that it
would have required an effort was enough to pre-
vent me from trying. You see, my throat has al-
ways been delicate, and at the slightest sign of
hoarseness I have been afraid to sing, lest I should
impose a strain upon my vocal cords. If I had not
been so careful, who knows but that my voice would
have given out long ago, instead of being as fresh
and strong to-day as at any time these twenty
years 1 ' ' That may have been absolutely true. As
461
Thirty Years of
it was, Sims Reeves was unquestionably the best-
preserved male singer of his time. To hear him,
long after he had passed the age of seventy, sing
^^ Adelaide" or ^^ Deeper and deeper still" or '^The
Message" was an exposition of breath control, of
tone-coloring, of phrasing and expression, that
may truly be described as unique.
Edward Lloyd, both as a man and a singer, was
of quite a different calibre. Hardy of constitu-
tion, fond of exercise and open-air sports, the
possessor of a strong, healthy throat, it was the
rarest imaginable occurrence for him to be com-
pelled to forego an engagement in consequence of
indisposition. Moreover, he had no weakness for
luxuries, and never spent his money extravagantly.
On the contrary, he knew how to save it and how to
invest it to good advantage. Therefore it came
about that, after a public career of some thirty
years, Edward Lloyd was in a position to indulge
his longing for otium cum dignitate; and when he
retired from active service, in the plenitude of his
vocal powers, he was a tolerably wealthy man
—though, truth to tell, that farewell came all too
soon for the liking of the British public. There
was no one to take Lloyd's place, and even now
it remains practically unfilled. Ben Davies has
in his voice some notes of beautiful quality, and
he is an artist of undoubted taste and distinction.
Nevertheless, to place him wholly upon the same
artistic level with his gifted predecessor might be
to imitate the Player Queen in '^Hamlet" and
'^protest too much."
462
Ccliv ri,::lit, ly.t?, by Wm. Kuebler. Jr.
GAD8KI
AS ELISABETH
Musical Life in London
As these lines are penned Edward Lloyd is con-
templating a farewell tour of the world ; so, happily,
there is no necessity yet to speak of him altogether
in the past tense. He has promised, too, from
time to time to reappear in the concert-room in
England, as compliment or charity may demand.
Edward Lloyd's is one of those pure, natural
voices that never lose their sweetness, but preserve
their charm so long as there are breath and power
to sustain them. His method is, to my thinking,
irreproachable and his style absolutely inimitable.
His versatility was greater than that of Sims
Eeeves, even though he was never a stage tenor;
for he was equally at home in music of every period
and of every school. In Bach and Handel, in
modern oratorio, in the Italian aria, in Lied, ro-
mance, or ballad, he was equally capable of arous-
ing genuine admiration; and, when he had fin-
ished with all of these, he could declaim Wagner
with a beauty of tone, a fullness of dramatic expres-
sion, and a clarity of enunciation that used to make
his German audiences in London shout for very
wonder and delight. Hans Richter was wont to de-
clare that Edward Lloyd was the first tenor to
bring out in all its fascinating loveliness the exqui-
site vocal charm of the ^ ' Preislied. ' ' That thought
occurred to me when he was singing it at his fare-
well concert at the Albert Hall in December, 1900 ;
and I was fain to admit that upon the operatic
boards only Jean de Reszke had accomplished with
this inspired melody what Edward Lloyd had done
with it upon the concert platform.
465
Thirty Years of
Another great English singer who yet lingers
upon the field of his former successes is Charles
Santley. For his years, his voice is wonderfully
preserved, and no ^^old man eloquent" could throw
into his efforts a more remarkable measure of en-
ergy, vigor, and feeling. Like Reeves, he made his
name first as an opera-singer ; there are many still
living who, like myself, entertain a vivid recol-
lection of his sympathetic and dramatic delineation
of Valentine in *^ Faust" and the Conte di Luna
in ^^11 Trovatore" years before the appearance
with the Carl Rosa Company to which allusion has
already been made in these pages. But of late
years the voice has lost its haunting beauty of
timbre, and the charm of Santley 's singing, save
that which survives in his perfect phrasing, is
no longer aught but a memory.
England's leading vocalists, at the dawn of the
twentieth century, comprised many artists of genu-
ine excellence. The time when there were *^ giants
in the land" might be past and gone; the advent
of a great English soprano might seem as far off
as ever. But the average singing heard in the con-
cert-room was often distinguished by fine musical
feeling and intelligence. A busy career of nearly
thirty years had not yet made serious inroads on
the thrilling tones of Emma Albani. The ' ' Queen
of the British Musical Festival" was still the most
reliable and conscientious of interpreters, the most
industrious of artists. Marguerite Macintyre, de-
spite her stronger penchant for opera, was never-
466
Musical Life in London
theless best known to her home public as a concert
soprano; and the same statement applies with
equal appropriateness to Ella Russell, who,
American by birth, English by adoption, and Ital-
ian by marriage, was the dramatic soprano par
excellence of the concert platform, a singer always
sincere, thorough, and convincing in her work. An-
other acclimatized American of tried ability alike
in opera- and concert-work was Lucile Hill ; while
yet another (who, however, had not yet trodden the
lyric boards) was Lillian Blauvelt, a refined and
highly cultivated singer with talents equally ap-
preciated on both sides of the Atlantic.
But where, among the leading women singers,
were the English-born artists? To find them one
had to turn to the contraltos— to Clara Butt, with
her glorious wealth of tone and Gallic grace of
delivery; to Marie Brema (who, however, would
be more correctly classified as a mezzo-soprano),
with her admirable command of tone-color, her
faultless diction, her infinitely varied shades of
impassioned poetic expression; and to Kirkby
Lunn, with her warm, rich notes of true contralto
quality, a singer full of talent and an observant,
persevering artist. The foremost contralto group
would not be complete, however, without the name
of the talented Australian, Ada Crossley, whose
popularity, rapidly and surely earned, was due
almost as much to winning charm of style as to
sheer force of tonal beauty.
The mantle of Braham and Sims Eeeves, as
467
Thirty Years of
worthily borne by Edward Lloyd, was resting more
or less easily upon the shoulders of Ben Davies,
a singer whose rare musical instinct and intelli-
gence have always partially atoned for his uneven
scale and his lack of ringing head-notes. Among
the tenors who had made their mark, Joseph
'Mara must not be forgotten, nor William Green,
the somewhat Italian quality of whose organ gave
promise of rich development with greater freedom
of emission and growth of temperament. At the
head of the barytones stood Andrew Black, one
of the best male singers that Scotland has ever
produced, the possessor of a superbly resonant
voice, and notably impressive in music calling for
pathetic sentiment and declamatory vigor. Artistic
singers were Kennerley Rumford and Denham
Price, while as a **safe'' oratorio bass Watkin
Mills fully deserved his position. To complete the
list there only remains to mention Plunket Greene,
who, had his vocal attributes only been on a par
with his interpretative powers, might fairly have
been described as one of the finest concert vocalists
of his time.
And so I conclude these recollections, as I began
them, with reflections upon English Festival ar-
tists and English Festival singing. The festival,
indeed, lives and flourishes, and remains perhaps
the most characteristic feature of musical progress
in th6 United Kingdom. It is the institution which
continues to compare most favorably with what
it was at the beginning of the thirty years traversed
468
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Musical Life in London
by these pages. There were greater singers in the
*^ seventies "—greater, maybe, than ever will be
heard at a festival again. On the other hand, there
were not then finer choirs than can be heard to-day
at Leeds, Birmingham, Norwich, and Sheffield ; nor
were there splendid orchestras available then, as
now, for the adequate rendering of something more
than choral accompaniments and easy symphonies
by Haydn or Mozart. Moreover, thanks to superior
executive means and a higher order of musical ajD-
preciation, there has been a manifest improvement
in the tone of festival programmes. A spirit of
eclecticism dominates the choice of works and re-
flects a catholicity of taste that nowhere could be
surpassed. Indeed, as regards the future of the
art in England, it is the great provincial centres
that display the promise to be sought for in vain
amid the invertebrate elements which constitute
musical life in the huge, overgrown metropolis of
the British Empire.
23 47 1
INDEX
INDEX
Abbey, Henry, 284 ; 356
Adams, Suzanne, at Windsor Castle,
444 ; debut at Covent Garden, 449
Agnesi, 25
Albani, Emma, as Elsa, 44; in Gounod's
"Redemption," 132; in Sullivan's
"Golden Legend," 197; at Covent
Garden (1888), 237 ; at Windsor Castle,
278 ; with Abbey troupe in America,
284 ; as Elizabeth, 292 ; see also 186 ;
277; 353; 413; 414; 425; 432; 466
Albeniz, I., operas "The Magic Opal"
and " Pepita Jimenez " produced, 377
Albers, 425
Alboni, Marietta, last visit to London,
27 ; heard at a private concert, 28
Alexandra, Her Majesty Queen, 112
A 1 Tn ri. n z 447
Alvarezi 391; 401: 413; 425; 438; 450
Alvary, Max, 250; debut at Covent
Garden, 366 ; see also 392 ; 401
Ancona, Mario, debut in London, 343 ;
see also 378 ; 386 ; 392 ; 401
Arditi, Luigi, 43; introduces Wagner's
" Trauermarsch, " 67; at Craig-y-nos
Castle, 309; with Patti in America,
359 ; see also 355
Arnoldson, Sigi'id, debut at Drury
Lane (1887), 223 ; at Covent Garden
(1888), 237; inMassenet's " Werther,"
361 ; see also 245
Artner, Frl. von, 449
Bach, Emil, 160; opera "Irmengarda"
produced, 391; opera "The Lady of
Longford ' ' produced, 401
Bach, Sebastian, Mass in B minor at
St. James's HaU, 9 ; at Leeds Festival,
197
Bache, Walter, 177 ; reception to Franz
Liszt, 183
Bagagiolo, 158
Bafnby, Sir Joseph, 65; conducts
"Parsifal" at Albert Hall, 189; at
Paderewski dinner, 300 ; death, 429 ;
funeral service at St. Paul's Cathe-
dral, 430 ; see also 283
Battenberg, Prince Henry of, 317
Battenberg, Princess Henry of, 386 ; 442
Battistini, 219; debut at Drury Lane
(1887), 223
Bauei-meister, Mathilde, at Windsor
Castle, 444 ; see also 277 ; 353
Beckett, Gilbert a, 401
Beeth, Lola, 425
Behrens, 102
Bellincioni, Sisters, 280; 383; Gemma
B. at Covent Garden, 414
Bemberg, H., opera " Elaine " at Covent
Garden, 369
Benedict, Sir Julius, conductor of the
Norwich Festival, 13 ; his meeting
with Beethoven, 14; accompanied
Jenny Lind to United States, 15 ; ill-
ness and death, 16
Bennett, Joseph, libretto of "Thor-
grim," 285; libretto of "Jeanie
Deans," 402; see also 44; 108; 196
Benoit, Peter, oratorio "Lucifer" at
Albert Hall, 283
Beresford, Lady Charles, 234 ; 235
Bernhardt, Sarah, 26
Bertram, debut at Covent Garden, 455
Bettaque, Frl., 250 j debut at Covent
Garden, 369
Bettini, 25
Bevignani, E., 160; 186; 280; 289; 391
Bispham, David, debut in "La
Basoche," 338; at Windsor Castle,
443 ; see also 386 ; 414 ; 432 ; 438
Bizet, Georges, production of "Car-
men" at Her Majesty's, 84; "Pech-
eurs de Perles " at Covent Garden,
271 ; "Carmen " in French, 288
Black, Andrew, 468
Blass, debut at Covent Garden, 455
Blauvelt, Lillian, 467
Boito, Arrigo, production of " Mefis-
tofele" at Her Majesty's, 152; re-
vival at Covent Garden (1888), 245;
receives "Mus. Doc." degree and
conducts at Cambridge, 348; attends
Philharmonic, 349
Bonci, debut at Covent Garden, 455
Bonnard, 378 ; 391
Borwick, Leonard, debut, 302
Bouvet, debut at Covent Garden, 354,
400
Brahms, Johannes, "Mus. Doc." de-
gree at Cambridge, 79 ; uses influence
on behalf of Dvorak, 169
Bi-andt, Marianne, debut at Drury
Lane, 126
Brema, Marie, d6but in opera, 355; see
also 449 ; 467
Breval, Lucienne, debut at Covent
Garden, 450
Bridge, Sir J. F., cantata "Callirhoe,"
236; restores original accompani-
ments to Handel's "Messiah," 454
475
Index
Briesemeister, debut at Covent Garden,
455
Brombara, 355
Brozel, PhiHp, 414
Bruch, Max, receives "Mus. Doc." de-
gree and conducts at Cambridge, 348 ;
conducts at Philharmonic, 349
Bruneau, Alfred, opera " Le Reve " at
Covent Garden, 354; opera "L'At-
taque du Moulin," 400
Buckingham Palace Library, 81 ; 117
Billow, Hans von, last visit to London,
236 ; Wagner and, 412 ; see also 414
Bunning, Herbert, 377
Burns, Georgina, debut as Anne Page,
50 ; creates Esmeralda, 142
Busoni, Perrucio, 418
Butt, Clara, debut in Gluck's 'Or-
pheus," 375 ; see also 376; 467
Calve, Emma, debut at Covent Garden
355 ; at Windsor Castle, 355 ; appears
as Suzel, 370 ; at Windsor Castle, 386 :
creates Amy Robsart, 391; in "La
Navarraise," 400; see also 384; 413;
449; 456
Cambridge, Duchess of, 113
Cambridge, Duke of, 112
Campanari, debut at Covent Garden,
449
Campanini, Italo, debut as Gennaro,
20; in "Carmen," 89; at Her Maj-
esty's (1879), 102; in " Mefistof ele, "
153 ; see also 47 ; 58 ; 429
Campobello, 49
Capoul, Victor, 25; 101
Carrodus, J. T., 22
Carte, R. D'Oyly, opens " Royal Eng-
lish Opera" with Sullivan's "Ivan-
hoe," 332; produces "La Basoche,"
338 ; see also 337
Castelmary, 271 ; 386 ; 391 ; 425
Celli, Frank, 280
Cepeda, Mme., 186
Chappell, Arthur, 32 ; 435
Clive, Franklin, in " Ivanhoe," 337
Colonne, 404
Cook, Aynsley, 49
Copland, Charles, in " Ivanhoe," 337
Corder, Frederic, opera "Nordisa"
produced, 151
Costa, Sir Michael, oratorio "Eli" at
Norwich, 4; at Drury Lane, 20; con-
ducts " Lohengi-in," 47; letter from,
54 ; Handel Festival conductor, 55 ;
conducts "Carmen," 89; at "Re-
demption" rehearsal, 130; conducts
"Mefistofele," 153; see also 190
Cotogni. 25 ; as Telramund, 44 ; at Co-
vent Garden, 101 ; in " La Gioconda,"
153 *
Coutts, Prank B. M., 377
Cowen, Frederic H., opera "Pauline"
at Lyceum Theatre, 49; conducts
Promenade Concerts, 57; "Scandi-
navian" symphony, etc., 236; Phil-
harmonic conductor, 236; opera
" Thorgrim " at Drury Lane, 285;
opera "Signa" at Covent Garden,
401 ; opera " Harold " at Covent Gar-
den, 414
Cramer, Pauline, 189
Crossley, Ada, 467
Crotty, Leslie, 142; 147
Crowe, Gwyllym, 57
Crystal Palace Concerts, 56 ; 95 ; 96 ; 402
Cummings, William H., 132
Cunningham, Robert, 437
Cusins, Sir William G., 114; 123; 432
D' Albert, Eugen, reappears in England,
417
Damian, Grace, 355
Damrosch, Dr. Leopold, 212
D'Andrade, Francesco, debut at Covent
Garden, 186; appears in "Don Gio-
vanni" (1888), 237 ; see also 271
Dannreuther, Edward, 66 ; 74 ; 78
Davies, Ben, debut in English opera,
142; creates Ivanhoe, 337; see also
401; 432; 468
Davies, Fanny, 235; plays at Patti re-
ception, 330 ; see also 305
Davies, Ffrangcon, in "Ivanhoe, " 337
Davison, James W., appreciation of
Joachim, 32; attacks "Lohengrin,"
44
Dawson, Frederick, 418
Declery, at Windsor Castle, 447
Deichmann, 74
Deliguoro, meeting with Verdi, 60 ; 64
Delna, Mile., debut at Covent Garden,
400
D'Erlanger, Frederic, opera " Inez Men-
do " at Covent Garden, 438
Deschamps-Jehin, Mme.,debtit at Co-
vent Garden, 354 ; see also 370
Devoyod, 353
Dippel, Andreas, debut at Covent Gar-
den, 438
Dolaro, Selina, in " Carmen," 101
Dolby, Sainton-, Mme., 7
Dome, Zoltan, debut at Covent Garden,
369
Dufriche, 384
Durand, Marie, debut in "LaGioconda,"
153
Dvorak, Antonin, visits to London, 163;
conducts " Stabat Mater " and " Spec-
tre's Bride," 163; story of his career,
163; and Wagner's " Meistersinger,"
168 ; oratorio " St. Ludmila " at Leeds,
197; see also 169
Dyck, E. van, debut at Covent &arden,
353 ; see also 370 ; 449
Eames, Emma, in Paris, 271 ; debut at
Covent Garden, 353 ; as Mireille, 354 ;
in Massenet's "Worther," 361; in
"Lady of Longford," 401; as Eva,
425; see also 413; 438; 449
Edinburgh, Duke and Duchess of, 280 ;
Duke at August Manns reception, 398 ;
see also 337
Eibenschiitz, Ilona, 418
Eissler, Sisters, 309 ; 318
476
Index
Elgar, Edward, oratorio "Light of Life "
and cantata "The Dream of Geron-
tius,"431; 432
Ende-Andriessen, Frau, debut at Co-
vent Garden, 369
Engel, debut at Covent Garden, 354
Engle, Marie, debut at Drury Lane
(1887), 223; see also 413
Esty, Alice, 437
Fabbri, Guerrina, 219
Faber, G. F., 453
Faccio, 280
Fancelli, 102
Faure, Jean B., 20; 25
Finek, H. T., 411
FitzGeorge, Admiral and Colonels, 112
Flon, Philippe, 400; 444
Foli, A. James, 25; 102; 154
Ford, Sir Clare, an operatic breakfast
at Madrid, 218
Formes, Carl, 25
Forsyth, Neil, 270; 429
Franke, Hermann, 105; 125
Friedrichs, 250
Friend, T. H., 437
Fugere, debut at Covent Garden, 438
Gabrilowitsch, Ossip, 418
Gadski, Johanna, debut at Covent Gar-
den, 450 ; see also 456
Gailhard, M., 261
Galassi, 47; 102
Galli-Marie, Mme., 86
Ganz, Wilhelm, conducts New Philhar-
monic Concerts, 105 ; introduces Mme.
Melba to Augustus Harris, 238 ; see
also 175
Garcia, Manuel, residence in my parents'
house, 34 ; my intercourse and studies
with, 35; the teacher and his method
described, 36 ; defence of the coup de
la glotte, 37 ; his accounts of Pasta and
Malibran, 38 ; visit to Cambridge, 79 ;
at ' ' Carmen ' ' premiere, 84 ; at Pader-
ewski dinner, 300; attends Maurel's
lecture, 371; declines controversy,
372 ; birthday presentation at Royal
Academy, 399; "Hints on Singing,"
399; see also 170
Garcia, Pauline Viardot-, 148
Gardoni, 25 ; 154
Gatti, A. and S., 57
Gayarre, Giuliano, debut at Covent Gar-
den, 99; in "La Gioconda,"153; see
also 101 ; 186 ; 219
Gerardy, Jean, debut in London, 306
Gerster, Etelka, debut at Her Majesty's,
99. 102
Gibson, Alfred, 306
Gilbert, W. S., 196
Glinka, opera " La vie pour leCzar," at
Covent Garden, 101
Gluck, " Orfeo " revived at Covent Gar-
den, 292
Goetz, Mrs. Edward, 432
Goetz, HeiTuann, "Taming of the
Shrew " in English, 90
Goldschmidt, Otto, 9
Gounod, Charles, conducts "The Re-
demption," 129; at rehearsal, 130;
"Mors et Vita" projected, 132; con-
ducts " Rom6o et Juliette" at Paris
Opera, 259 ; letter to Jean de Reszke,
263 ; "Rom^o " in French at Covent
Garden, 271; in English at Drury
Lane, 286 ; " Philemon et Baucis " at
Covent Garden, 354
Grau, Maurice, 236 ; managing director
of Covent Garden, 429; at Windsor
Castle, 443 ; resigns Covent Garden,
453; see also 356; 419; 437; 438; 448
Graziani, 101
Green, Richard, debut in "Ivanhoe,"
337 ; see also 378 ; 414
Green, William, 468
Greene, Plunket, 468
Gregorowitsch, debut at Philharmonic,
441
Greve, 369
Grey, Earl de, 270; 429
Grey, Lady de, 234 ; 235 ; 269
Grieg, Edvard, debut in England (at
Philharmonic), 236; later visit to
London, 441
Groll, Amelia, debut at Drury Lane
(1887), 223
Grove, Sir George, 56 ; 394 ; 398
Gudehus, 189 ; 250
Gulbranson, Frau, debut at Covent Gar-
den, 455
Gura, Eugen, debut at Drury Lane, 126
Gye, Ernest, assumes Covent Garden
management, 101 ; produces "LaGio-
conda," 153 ; collapse of Royal Italian
Opera Company, 157
Gye, Frederic, provincial opera sp"ecu-
lation, 16 ; death, 101
Hall6, Sir Charles, 235; pianist and
conductor, 305 ; see also 414
Halle, Lady (Mme. Neruda), 26; 235;
305
Harper, Tom, 19
Harris, Sir Augustus, German season
at Drury Lane (1882), 125; sketch of
early career, 135; my meeting with,
137; assisted by Major Kitchener,
139 ; first partnership with Carl Rosa
(1883), 140; stages "Nadeshda," 147;
unfolds Italian opera scheme, 207;
starts for Spain to engage artists, 211 ;
secures the de Reszkes, 213 ; attends
bull-fights, 219; visits Seville, 221;
tentative opera season at Drury Lane
(1887), 221; revives " Les Huguenots,"
224 ; subdues an angry barytone, 227 ;
project to take Covent Garden, 233 ;
building the subscription, 234; first
Covent Garden season (1888), 236;
revives "L'Africaine, " 239; visits
Bayreuth, 246; secures rights in
" Romeo," 264; managing director of
Carl Rosa Company, 265 ; mounts
"Romeo et Juliette" in French
(1889), 271 ; gives "Die Meistersinger "
477
Ind
ex
in Italian, 271; produces Cowen's
"Thorgrim" (Carl Rosa Company)
at Drury Lane (1890), 285; French
opera year, 286; "Carmen" benefit,
288; Sheriff of London, 292; on
Wagner rights, 295 ; secedes from
Carl Rosa Company, 295 ; at Craig-y-
nos Castle, 309 ; receives knighthood,
309 ; negotiations for Patti's reap-
pearance at Co vent Garden, 323 ; at
Patti dinner, 329 ; brilliant season of
1891, 350 ; French autumn season, 354 ;
mounts " Le Reve " and "Philemon
et Baucis," 354; produces Massenet's
"Werther," 362; develops German
opera, 363 ; first German subscription
(1892), 364; engages Mahler, 365; pro-
duces (1892) Mascagni's " L'Amico
Fritz," Bemberg's "Elaine," Ness-
ler's "Trompeter von Sakkingen,"
and De Lara's "Light of Asia," 369;
proprietor of "Sunday Times," 372;
revives the hal masque at Covent
Garden, 375 ; at Windsor Castle, 386 ;
Kaiser's State visit to the Opera, 387 ;
the Prince of Wales and, 388; note
from Jean de Reszke, 391 ; mounts
(1893) De Lara's "Amy Robsart,"
Stanford's "Lalla Rookh," Bizet's
"Djamileh," Emil Bach's "Irmen-
garda," and Halevy's "La Juive,"
391; prodTices (1894) Massenet's " La
Navarraise," Bruneau's " L'Attaque
duMotdin," and Cowen's "Signa,"
400 ; librettist of "Lady of Longford "
(produced at Covent Garden), 401;
mounts (1894) Verdi's " Falstaff " and
Puccini's "Manon Lescaut," 401;
"Patti season" of 1895, 413; pro-
duces Cowen's " Harold, " 414 ; Cobiirg
company at Drury Lane, 414 ; season
of 1896, 425 ; illness and death, 425 ;
appreciation of, 426 ; the imitation of
his operatic policy, 448 ; table show-
ing thirteen years' work of regime,
456; see also 235; 249; 315; 316; 324;
392; 400: 426; 427; 459
Hauk, Minnie, debut at Her Majesty's
in " Carmen, " 86 ; in "Taming of the
Shrew," 90; letters from, 93; at Her
Majesty's (1879), 102; at Drury Lane
(1887), 223; see also 94
Hausmann, Robert, 105
Heglon, Mile., debut at Covent Garden,
449 ; creates Messaline, 450
Hegner, Otto, debut in London, 236
Henschel, Georg, 190; his London
career, 202 ; conducts Paderewski con-
cert, 298 ; sings at Cambridge, 348 ;
see also 203; 204
Henschel, Mrs., 203
Henson, M^dora, debut in "Ivanhoe,"
338
Hersee, Rose, 49
Hieser, Frl., debut at Covent Garden,
455
Higgins, Harry V., 234 ; 266 ; 267 ; 429
Hill, Karl, 125
Hill, Lucile, in "Ivanhoe," 337; 392;
467
HUl, Weist, 429
Hofmann, Josef, debut in London, 236
Hollander, B., plays at Patti recep-
tion, 330
Homer, Louise, debut at Covent Gar-
den, 450
Hueffer, Dr. Francis, 132 ; libretto of
"Colomba," 145; libretto of "The
Troubadour," 148
Humperdinck, opera ' ' Hansel und
Gretel" at Covent Garden, 402; de-
but at Philharmonic, 441
Isaac, Adele, 260
Isnardon, 277; 353
Jaquinot, Claude, 437
Joachim, Joseph, 26; advice to my bro-
ther Max, 31; at the Popular Con-
certs, 32; " Mus. Doe." degree at Cam-
bridge, 79 ; celebration of English
jubilee, 393 ; speech at reception, 397;
secedes from Poijular Concerts, 435;
see also 235
Joran, Pauline, 384
Journet. Marcel, debut at Covent Gar-
den, 438
Kellogg, Clara Louise, at Her Majesty's,
102
Kenningham, Charles, in "Ivanhoe,"
337
Kienzl, Wilhelm, opera " Der Evangeli-
mann " at Covent Garden, 438
King, Frederic, 197
Klaf sky, Frau, debut at Covent Garden,
369; see also 401; 429
Klein, Alfred, 173
Klein, Charles, 173 ; 419
Klein, Manuel, 173
Klein, Max, 22 ; incident with Alboni,
31 ; played before Joachim, 31
Knight, Joseph, 107
Kraus, Ernst, debut at Covent Garden,
455
Kupfer-Berger, Mme., 219; debut at
Drury Lane, 222
Lablache, Mme., 271
Lago, Signor, first essay as Covent Gar-
den impresario, 186; autumn season
at Covent Garden, 292 ; produces
Tschaikowsky's " Eugeny Onegin,"
343; produces " Cavalleria Rusti-
cana," 354; see also 211; 295
Lamond, Frederic, 418
Lamoureux, 404
Landau, 369
Lapissida, 277
Lara, Isidore de, opera "Light of Asia "
produced at Covent (warden, 370;
opera "Amy Robsart " i)roduced at
Covent Garden, 391 ; opera ' ' Messa-
line " at Covent Garden, 450
Lassalle, Jean, debut at Covent Garden,
101 ; as Nclusko, 158 ; reutree with de
478
Index
Reszkes (1888), 239; life in London,
240 ; vocal duel with Tamagno, 243 ;
meeting at Ems, 250 ; as Hans Sachs
in "Die Meistersinger " (1889), 272;
as Escamillo and Claude Frollo, 287 ;
letter from, 287 ; debut in America,
369; as Vanderdecken, 370; see also
245; 353; 391
Latham, Fred. G., 236
Lehmann, Lilli, debut in London, 125 ;
reappearaTice, 450
Lehmann, Liza, " In a Persian Garden "
first performed, 432 ; 433
Lely. Durward, 309
Leiiimens-Sherrington, Mme., 19
Leoncavallo, opera " Pagliacci "pro-
duced at Covent Garden, 378 ; visit to
London. 378
Leslie's (Henry) Choir, 429
Levi, Hermann, 250 ; 404
Lieban, debut at Covent Garden, 369
Lind, Homer, 437
Lind, Jenny, at Norwich, 8 ; member of
Bach choir, 9 ; tour in United States,
15
Liszt, Franz, 173; last visit to London,
177; plays at various places, 180; at
Grosvenor Gallery recejjtion, 183
Littleton, Alfred, 178 ; 430
Litvinne, Mile., debut at Covent Gar-
den, 450
Lloyd, Edward, in Gounod's " Redemp-
tion," 132; in Sullivan's "Golden
Legend," 197; farewell concert, 460;
appreciation of, 462 ; see also 465
Lohse, 401
Lorent, 369
Lome, Marquis of, 441
Lorrain, debut at Covent Garden, 354
Louise, Princess (Marchionessof Lome),
442
Lucca, Pauline, 25; return to Covent
Garden (1882), 158; as Selika and Car-
vien, 158; letter from, 159; at a din-
ner given by, 160
Lucia," De, 219 ; debut at Drury Lane
(1887). 223; as Ca7iio, 378; see also
355; 384; 386; 413; 456
Ludwig, James, 142
Lunn, Kirkby, 467
Lussan, Zelie de, debut at Covent Gar-
den as Carmen, 245; in Cowen's
"Thorgrim, " 286; as Carmen (French),
. 288; at Patti dinner, 329; see also
353; 449
Lyall, Charles, 49
MacCunn, Hamish, overture "Land of
the Mountain and the Flood," 236;
opera "Jeanie Deans" produced,
402; opera "Diarmid," produced, 442
MacDonald, Bessie, 437
McGuckin, Barton, 142; 145; 147; 286,
338
Macintyre, Marguerite, debut as Mi-
chaela, 237; sings in " Mefistofele "
(1888), 245; creates Rebecca, 337; see
also 413; 466
Mackenzie, Sir Alexander C, opera
" Colomba " produced at Drury Lane,
141 ; oratorio "The Rose of Sharon "
at Norwich, 146; opera " The Trouba-
dour " produced, 148; cantata "The
Story of Sayid"at Leeds, 197; at
Paderewski dinner, 300; see also
394
Mahler, conducts German season at Co-
vent Garden, 365
Malet, Sir Edward, 414
Malibran, episode in childoood of. 38
Malten, Therese, debut at Drury Lane,
129; in "Parsifal" at Albert Hall,
189; see also 190; 250
Mancinelli, Luigi, 210; visit to, with Au-
gustus Harris, in Madrid, 217 ; debut
at Drury Lane (1887), 222; opera
" Ero e Leandro " produced at Co-
vent Garden, 449; see also 219; 249;
255; 271; 277; 288; 361; 378; 443; 456
Manns, August, conductor of Handel
Festival and Crystal Palace Concerts,
55; celebration of seventieth birth-
day, 398 ; see also 56
Mantelli, Eugenia, 425
Mapleson, James H., 16; mounts "Lo-
hengrin," 47; produces "Carmen,"
86; season at Her Majesty's (1879),
102; produces " Mefistofele " at Her
Majesty's, 152; benefit performance,
186; proposes American trip to de
Reszkes, 253; season at Her Majestv's,
280; see also 99; 222; 259
Marchesi, Blanche, debut in London,
435
Marimon, Marie, 25
Mario, 25; 259
Masini. in Verdi's "Requiem," 65
Mascagni, Pietro, opera " Cavalleria
Rusticana " produced at Shaftesbury
Theatre, 354; opera "L'Amico Fritz "
at Covent Garden, 369 ; visit to Lon-
don, 378; opera "I Rantzau " at Co-
vent Garden, 378; tells story of "Ca-
valleria Rusticana," 381 ; visits Queen
Victoria and conducts "Cavalleria"
at Windsor, 386 ; see also 385
Maas, Joseph, 90
Massenet, Jules, opera " Le Roi de La-
hore" at Covent Garden, 102; opera
"Werther" at Chicago, 361; at Co-
vent Garden, 362 ; see also 400
Materna, Amalie, debut in London at
Wagner Festival, 73
Mattel, Tito, 309
Maubourg, Mile., 447
Maurel, Victor, at Covent Garden, 101 ;
at Drury Lane (1887), 223 ; as lago
at Lyceum (1889), 280; as Wolfram,
292 ; lecture at Lyceum, 370 ; see also
186; 353
Mayer, Daniel, 299
Maver, M. L., 280
Mazzucato, G., 255; 273; 392
Meisslinger, Frl., 392; 414; 449
Melba, Nellie, debut at Covent Garden
(1888), 237; s,& Juliette, 211; as Es7ne-
479
Ind
ex
ralda, 290 ; as Nedda, 378 ; as Rosina,
456; see also 353; 370; 413; 438; 449
Messager, Andre, opera ' ' La Basoche ' '
produced, 338 ; appointed ' ' artistic
director" at Covent Garden, 453
Meux, Thomas, debut at Covent Gar-
den, 438
Mierzvdnsky, 158; 160
Milliet, Paul, 391 ; 401
Mills, Watkin, 468
Miolan-Carvalho, Mme., 259
Mitchell, John, 25 ; 27
Mongini, 25 ; 154
Montague, A., 291
Montariol, 271 ; 277 ; 353
Moran-Olden, Frau, 392
Moszkowski, Moritz, revisits London,
441 ; conducts at Philharmonic, 441
Mottl, Felix, 250; 404; 417; 449; 455
Muck, Dr., 450
Murska, lima di, 25 ; 154
Musiani, Adelaide, 355
Nannetti, 153
Navarrini, debut at Drury Lane (1887),
223
Neilson, Francis, 410
Neruda, Mme. See Halle, Lady
Nessler, Victor, opera ' ' Der Trompeter
von Sakkingen " at Drury Lane, 369
Neumann, Angelo, 124
Nevada, Emma, 146
Newman, Robert, 403; first London
Musical Festival, 454; see also 404
NicoUni, Ernest, as Lohengrin, 44; at
Covent Garden, 101; at Craig-y-uos
Castle, 313; see also 259; 328; 329
Niemann, Albert, 125
Nikisch, 404
Nilsson, Christine, 25; at Her Majesty's
(1879), 102; appears in "Mefistofele,"
153 ; retirement from opera, 154 ; fare-
well concert at Albert Hall, 157 ; at a
private bull-fight, 220 ; see also 47 ; 58
Nordica, Lillian, appears at Drury
Lane (1887), 223; as Valentine, 224; at
Covent Garden as Carmen, 237 ; as
Selika, 240 ; as Aida, 245 ; meeting at
Ems, 250; letter from, 253; with
Abbey troupe in America, 284 ; with
de Reszkes in America, 360 ; presenta-
tion at Metropolitan Opera House,
420; a private recital of "Tristan,"
423 ; at Windsor Castle, 443 ; see also
353; 392; 424
Novara, Franco, 146; 309; 359
Novello & Co., 130; 174
Nuovina, Mme. de, 401
Olitzk*, Rosa, 392 ; 441
O'Mara, Joseph, in " Ivanhoe," 337; 468
Oudin, Eugene, debut as the Templar
in "Ivanhoe," 337; the artist de-
scribed, 341; letter from, 342; in
Tschaikowsky's " Eugeny Onegin,"
343; illness and premature death,
343 ; letter from, 349
Paeary, Mme., debut at Covent Garden,
438
Paderewski, Ignace Jan, debut in Lon-
don, 296; becomes a musical "lion,"
299 ; my meeting with, 299 ; dinner
in honor of, 300; plays sonata mth
Piatti, 302; "Polish Fantasia" at
Philharmonic, 302 ; performs his con-
certo at Philharmonic, 349
Paganini, my schoolmaster's descrip-
tion of, 7
Palliser, Esther, debut in "Ivanhoe,"
337
Pandolfini, 186; 223
Parker, Horatio, oratorio " Hora Novis-
sima " at Gloucester, 454
Parratt. Sir Walter, 118
Parry, Sir C. H. H., oratorio "Judith,"
236
Pasta, Garcia's appreciation of, 38
Patey, Mme., 132; in Sullivan's "Gold-
en Legend," 197; death, 376
Patti, Adelina, at Covent Garden, 25;
at Mapleson benefit, 186 ; as Juliette
at Paris Opera, 259 ; with Abbey
troupe in America, 284 ; my first visit
to Craig-y-nos Castle, 307; letter
from, 308; the castle and theatre
described, 309 ; opening of the theatre,
313; pantomime play on "LaTosca,"
315; visited by Prince Henry of Bat-
tenberg, 317; at Welsh charity con-
cert, 317; essays Wagner, 318; letter
from, 319 ; reference to early life, 320 ;
the voice and the singer, 321 ; letter
from, 322; how she reappeared at Co-
vent Garden, 323 ; pantomime play
on " East Lynne," 327; a strange co-
incidence, 328; dinner in honor of,
328 ; appreciation of, 331 ; American
concert tour, 359; receives Philhar-
monic medal, 413; see also 71; 101;
212; 310; 316; 324; 413
Patti, Carlotta, 26
Paull, William, 437
Paur, Emil, 455
Perosi, Abbe, oratorios produced in
London and Norwich, 454
Perry, Clara, 142
Philharmonic Concerts, 95; 96; 236;
280; 299; 302; 342; 349; 413; 441
Piatti, Alfredo, 26 ; at Paderewski din-
ner, 300 ; plays sonata with Paderew-
ski, 302 ; plays at Patti reception, 329 ;
celebration *of English jubilee, 393;
speech at reception, 394; death, 435;
see also 33; 235; 306; 397
Pinkert, Regina, 353
Planqon, Pol, debut at Covent Garden,
353; as Pogner (in German), 425; see
also 370 ; 438 ; 449
Pollini, Bernhard, 125; 364
Pollonnais, Andre, 327
Ponchielli, Amilcare, opera "La Gio-
conda" produced at Covent Garden,
153
Popular Concerts, 32; 402; 435
Price, Denham, 468
480
Ind
ex
Pringle, Lempriere, debut at Covent
Garden, 438
Promenade Concerts (Covent Garden),
57
Puccini, Giacomo, opera "Man on Les-
caut " produced at Covent Garden,
401 ; second visit to England, 437 ;
opera ' ' La Boheme ' ' given at Man-
chester (Carl Rosa Company), 437;
opera "La Tosca" at Covent Gar-
den, 455
Puente, Giuseppe del, in "Carmen,"
89; at Her Majesty's (1879), 102;
rentree at Drury Lane (1887), 223;
with Patti in America, 359
Queen's Hall, opening of, 403
Randegger, Alberto, conductor of the
Norwich Festival, 13 ; sees Verdi at a
Handel Festival, 59; conducts Carl
Rosa season (1883), 141; conducts
Saint-Saens's Psalm, 174; see also 289
Ravelli, 353
Ravogli, Giulia, dobut at Covent Garden
in "Orfeo," 292; see also 353
Ravogli, Sofia, debut at Covent Gar-
den in "Orfeo," 292
Reeves, Sims, 7; death, 460; apprecia-
tion of, 460 ; see also 26 ; 461
Reicher-Kindermann, Hedwig, 125
Reichmann, 250 ; 369
Renaud, debut at Covent Garden, 438;
in "Henry VIII, "449
Reszke, Edouard de, debut at Covent
Garden, 102; in "La Gioconda," 153;
at Pauline Lucca's, 160 ; at his home
in Paris (1887), 213; appears at Drury
Lane, 222; life in London (1888), 240;
our "imitation " Wagner duets, 244;
meeting at Ems, 250; as Frere
Laurent at Paris Opera, 263, and in
London, 271 ; received by Queen Vic-
toria at Windsor, 278; at Patti din-
ner, 329; at Covent Garden (1891),
353 ; debut in America, 359 ; in " Lady
of Longford," 401; as a German
singer, 423; decorated with cross of
Victorian Order, 443; in "Lohen-
grin " and " Faust " at Windsor, 443 ;
see also 245; 425; 438; 444; 447; 449
Reszke, Jean de, debut in London as
barytone, 57; suggested to Augustus
Harris, 210; visit to his Paris home
(1887), 213 ; from barytone to tenor,
214 ; debut in " Aida 'at Drurv Lane
(1887), 221; as Raoul, 224; appears at
Covent Garden as Vasco di Gama
(1888) ; his life in London described,
240; as Riccardo ("Un Ballo "), 245;
meeting at Ems, 250; letter from,
254; as Romeo at Paris Opera, 262,
and in London (1889), 271 ; as Walther
in "Die Meistersinger " (in Italian),
272; received by Queen Vietoi-ia at
Windsor, 278; letter from, 278; as
Phoebus (" Esmeralda "), 287; as Don
Jose, 288; at Patti dinner, 329; as
Otello, 353; debut in America, 359;
letters from, 359; as Sir Lancelot
in "Elaine," 370; absence from Co-
vent Garden (1895), 413; appears as
German singer in America, 419 ; a
private recital of "Tristan," 423;
sings Tristan, Walther, and Lohengrin
in German at Covent Garden, 425 ; in
London season of 1897, 438 ; decorated
with cross of Royal Victorian Order,
443; as Lohengrin at Windsor, 443;
as Siegfried at Covent Garden, 449;
in London season of 1900, 455; see
also 289; 290; 361; 420; 424; 444
Reszke, Josephine de, 154
Reuss-Belce, Frau, 392
Richard, Mme., debut at Covent Gar-
den, 353
Richter, Hans, debut in London, 73;
founds concerts at St. James's Hall,
105; conducts German season at
Drury Lane (1882), 125; succeeds
Costa at Birmingham, 190; at Bay-
reuth, 250; succeeds HaUe at Man-
chester, 305 ; see also 106 ; 129
Richter Concerts, established (1879),
189; 299; 409; 417
Ries. Louis, 22; retirement from
"Pops," 33, 305
Rigo, Frank, 315
Ritt, M., 261
Rolla, Kate, 353 -
Romili, Alessandro, 28
Rooy, Anton van, debut at Covent Gar-
den, 449
Rosa, Carl, first London season, 47;
comments on English opera, 48 ;
mounts "Flying Dutchman" at Ly-
ceum, 49; revives "Merry Wives of
Windsor," 50; letter from, 53; pro-
duces "Lohengrin," "Aida," "Tam-
ing of the Shrew," and "Mignon,"
90; produces "Rienzi" and "Car-
men," 101; joint season with Augus-
tus Harris at Drury Lane (1883), 140;
produces "Esmeralda "and "Co-
lomba," 141; " Canterbury Pilgrims, "
146 ; " Nadeshda, " 146 ; letter from,
147; "The Troubadour," 148; " Nor-
disa," 151; revives in provinces
Balfe's "Puritan's Daughter," etc.,
230; death, 265. [For further produc-
tions, see Rosa (Carl) Opera Com-
pany]
Rosa (Carl) Opera Company, 43 ; at
Princess's (1875), 44; cast of Mozart's
"Figaro," 49; at Lyceum (1876), 49;
at Adelphi (1878), 50; at Her Maj-
esty's (1880), 90; at Her Majesty's
(1879), 101; at Drury Lane (1883), 140;
in the provinces (1887), 230; at Drury
Lane (1890), 285; fortunes decline,
295; gives " Cavalleria Rusticana,"
355; produces Goring Thomas's
posthumous opera "The Golden
Web," 377; produces stage version of
Berlioz's "Faust," Hamish Mac-
Cunn's "Jeanie Deans," and Hum-
481
Ind
ex
perdinck's " Hansel und Gretel,"
402; gives Puccini's "La Boheme,"
437; produces MacCunn's "Diar-
mid,"441
Rosa, Mme. Parepa-, 48
Rosenthal, Moritz, debut in England,
417
Rota, 25; 102
Rouzeaud, Augusta, 154
Roze, Marie, at Her Majesty's, 102
Rubinstein, Anton, revisits London,
95; opera "The Demon" produced,
96 ; last visit to England, 183 ; Histori-
cal Recitals 184; see also 176; 414
Rudersdoi-ff, Mme., 13
Rumford, Kennerley, 377; 468
Russell, Ella, debut at Covent Garden,
186; appears in " LaTraviata " (1888),
237; in " Mefistofele," 245; in
"Pecheurs de Perles,"271; see also
467
Ryan, Desmond L., 107
Saar, 272
Saint-Saens, Camille, introduced to by
Garcia, 170; a sad coincidence, 173;
arranges to write oratorio "Moses,"
174 ; letter from, 175 ; opera ' ' Asca-
nio " in Paris, 287; receives " Mus.
Doc." degree and performs solo at
Cambridge, 348 ; opera "Henry VIII"
at Covent Garden, 449
Salaman, Charles K . 436
Salaman, Malcolm, 112
Saleza, at Windsor Castle, 444 ; debut at
Covent Garden, 449
Salignac, debut at Covent Garden, 438
Salmond, Norman, in " Ivanhoe," 337
Sanderson, Sybil, debut at Covent Gar-
den, 353
Santley, Charles. 25; with Carl Rosa
Opera Company, 48 ; in " Flying Dutch-
man, " 49 ; in Gounod ' s " Redemption, "
132 ; appreciation of. 466
Sanz, Elena, 173
Sapellnikoff, Loris, 280
Sarasate, Pablo, visits to London, 96 ;
plays at Patti reception, 330 ; note
from, 330
Sauer, Emil, 418
Saville, Frances, debut at Covent Gar-
den, 438 ; see also 449
Saxon, Avon, in "Ivanhoe," 337
Scalchi, Sofia, at Covent Garden, 25;
in " La Gioconda," 153; see also 101;
186; 245
Scaria, 189
Scharwenka, 105
Scheff, Fritzi, debut at Covent Garden,
455
Scheidem^ntel, 250
Schleswig-Holstein, Princess Christian
of, member of Bach Choir, 9 ; see also
80; 114; 386; 442
Schlosser, 125
Schonberger, Benno, 418
Schott, Anton, 90
Sehulz-Curtius, Alfred, 404
Schumann, Clara, 26; at the Philhar-
monic, 236 ; see also 33 ; 235 ; 305 ; 414
Schumann Heink, Ernestine, debut at
Covent Garden, 369 ; at Windsor Cas-
tle, 443 ; see also 449
Scotti, debut at Covent Garden, 453 ; as
Scarpia, 456
Sedlmair, Frl., debut at Covent Garden,
438
Seguin, 271
Seidl, Anton, debut in London, 125;
conducts at Covent Garden, 409 ; Seidl
and Richter, 409; reminiscences of
Wagner, 410; music to trilogy, "Mana-
bozo," 410; see also 411; 412; 413;
420; 441
Sembrich, Marcella, at Pauline Lucca's,
160 ; rentree at Covent Garden, 413
Simmonet, Mile., debut at Covent Gar-
den, 354
Sivori, 26
Slezak, debut at Covent Garden, 455
Soman, Philip, 108
Sousa, John Philip, 419
Spohr, Louis, connection with Norwich
Festival, 10
Squire, W. Barclay, 391
Stagno, 383 ; 384
Stainer, Sir John, oratorio "The Cru-
cifixion," 236
Stanford, Sir C. Villiers, conducts at
Cambridge, 83 : opera ' ' Canterbury
Pilgrims " produced, 146; "The Re-
venge " at Leeds, 197; appointed con-
ductor at Leeds, 202 ; ' ' Irish ' ' sym-
phony, 236 ; opera " Veiled Prophet "
mounted at Covent Garden, 391
State Concert, described, 80; see also
114; 119
State Opera, for Shah of Persia, 277 ;
for royal marriage, 387 ; for German
Kaiser, 387, 388
Steinbach, Emil, 392 ; 394
Stengel, Guillaume, 160
Sterling, Antoinette, 309
Stern, Leo, 449
Stolz, Mme., in Verdi's "Requiem,"
65
Straus, Ludwig, 33 ; 305
Strauss, Richard, debut in London,
404; introduces symphonic poem
" Tod und Verkliirung, " 408 ; see also
408
Strong, Susan, debut at Covent Garden,
438
Sturgis, Julian, libretto of " Nadeshda,"
146; libretto of "Ivanhoe," 336
Siicher, Rosa, debut at Drury Lane,
126; see also 250; 306
Sullivan, Sir Arthur, .56 ; conducts
Promenade Concerts, 57 ; letter from,
190; his home and working life, 192;
"The Golden Legend" produced, 196;
note on Wagner's " Meistersinger, "
196; as a turf-lover, 198 ; letter from,
202; conducts "Golden Legend" be-
fore Queen Victoria, 278; at Pade-
rewski dinner, 300; composition of
482
Index
"Ivanlioe,"335; its production, 337;
withdrawn, 338; funeral at St. Paul's
Cathedral, 430; see also 193; 302; 336
• Sunday Times, " 107 ; 114 ; 147 ; 163 ;
372
Tagliafico, 25
Talazac, 260 ; 271 _ ,
Tamagno, with the de Reszkes and
Lassalle in London, 243 ; as Otello at
Lyceum (1889), 280; with Abbey
troupe in America, 284; see also 413
Tamberlik, 25
Ternina, Milka, debut in London (con-
cert), 404; at Covent Garden, 407;
as La Tosca at Covent Garden, 455;
see also 449
Thomas, Ambroise, 429
Thomas, Arthur Goring, opera "Es-
meralda" produced at Dniry Lane,
141; opera " Nadeshda " produced,
146; letter from, 148; death, 151;
"Esmeralda" in French, 287; post-
humous opera "The Golden Web"
produced, 377; seo also 290
Thomas, Lewis, 429
Thudichum, Miss, in " Ivanhoe," 337
Tietiens, Theresa, 7 ; at Norwich Festi-
val, 16; in oratorio and opera, 19;
last appearance at Her Majesty's
Theatre, 20; illness and death, 21;
see also 25; 47; 58
Tilbury, C, 437
Tosti, F. Paolo, 113; 355
Torriani, Ostava, 49
Traubmann, Frl., 369
Trebelli, Zelia, 20; at Her Majesty's
(1879), 102; in " Mefistofele," 153; at
Covent Garden (1888), 237; death, 375;
see also 25 ; 85
Tschaikowsky, Peter, debut in Eng-
land, 236; conducts piano concerto
at Philharmonic, 283 ; opera " Eugeny
Onegin" at Olympic Theatre, 343;
my meeting with, 344 ; receives " Mus.
Doc." degree at Cambridge, 348; con-
ducts "Francesca da Rimini," 349;
meets Eugene Oudin, 349; "Pathe-
tique " symphony under Richter, 409
Unger, George, 125
Valda, Giulia, debut at Covent Garden,
186 ; 309
Valleria, Alwina, as Michaela, 89 ; cre-
ates Colomba, 145 ; creates Nadeshda,
147; in "L'Africaine;" 158
Vanzandt, Marie, debut at Her Maj-
esty's, 102
Verdi, Giuseppe, conducts " Manzoni
Requiem" at the Albert Hall, 59;
meets old fellow-student at rehearsal,
63; "Aida" inaugurates Drury Lane
season (1887), 221 ; " Un Ballo in Mas-
chera" at Covent Garden (1888), 245;
" Otello " at the Lvceum, 280 ; " Fal-
staff" at Covent Garden, 401
Vianesi, A., 44; 100
Victoria, Her Majesty Queen, 79; re-
ceives Franz Liszt, 180; hears
" Golden Legend " at the Albert Hall,
278; receives the de Reszkes and
Albani, 278; hears " Cavalleria Rusti-
cana" at Windsor, 355; receives
Mascagni and hears "L'Amieo
Fritz " at Windsor, 386 ; receives Ed-
vard Grieg and wife, 441 ; decorates
Jean and Edouard de Reszke, 443;
hears "Lohengrin" and "Faust" at
Windsor, 443 ; see also 444 ; 447
Vieuxtemps, 26
Vignas, Francesco, 355; 386; 392
Vigne, Jane de, 271
Vogl, Heinrich, 125; 250
Wachtel, 25
Wagner, Cosima, birthday serenade,
411, 412, 413
Wagner, Richard, "Lohengrin" pro-
duced at Covent Garden, 43; "Fly-
ing Dutchman" in English, 49; last
visit to London (Albert Hall Festival),
65 ; my meeting with, 71 ; " Der Ring
des Nibelungen " produced in Lon-
don, 124; "Tristan und Isolde" and
"Die Meistersinger " produced in
German at Drury Lane, 126; "Parsi-
fal" at Albert Hall, 189; " Die Meis-
tersinger" in Italian at Covent Gar-
den, 271; Seidl's anecdotes of, 410,
411, 412, 413; scriptural scene "Last
Supper of the Apostles" at Albert
Hall, 454
Wagner, Siegfried, debut in London,
404; symphonic poem "Sehnsucht,"
407 ; see also 407
Waldmann, Mme., in Verdi's "Re-
quiem," 05
Wales, Prince and Princess of, at the
Opera, 223 ; the Prince and Sir Augus-
tus Harris, 387 ; see also 237 ; 240 ; 266 ;
278; 286; 337; 387; 388; 453
Walker, Edyth, debut at Covent Gar-
den, 455
Wartegg, Baron Ernst von Hesse-, 90
Webber, Amherst, 423; 424
Weingartner, Felix, 404
W^eiss 7
Wiega'nd, 250; 369
Wieniawski, Henri, 26
Wilhelmj, Aiagust, 67; 106; 318
Wilson, Hilda, 432
Winckworth, A. S., 437
Winkelmann, Hermann, debut at
Drurv Lane, 126
Winogradow, 271 ; 277
Wood, Henry J., 403
Wylde, Dr., 105
Yorke, Josephine, 49 ; 147
Ysaye, Eugene, debut in London at
Philharmonic, 280
483
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